Cor Unum, Via Una
by Normione
Summary: All Charlie Noland wanted was a normal life as a graduate student in England. Instead she found herself in the future battling strange aliens while trying to get herself and her two closest friends back to 21st century Earth. That is until she is kidnapped in a plot to control the universe. How can this 21st century woman play into the politics of the future universe?
1. Chapter One: Kansas

**Longer Summary****:** All Charlie Noland wanted was to start her life as a graduate student at a prestigious university in England. Instead she found herself in the future battling strange alien creatures, flying across the galaxy all while trying to get herself and her two closest friends back to 21st century Earth. That is until she is kidnapped to aid in a plot to control the universe. How can a 21st century woman play into the politics of the future? Luckily, a newly minted star ship captain is there to help.

**Rate T:** Some swearing and violence. Not really recommended for anyone under sixteen

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**Well I have just seen the new Star Trek movie (it pays to have moved to the U.K.) so in celebration, I am publishing this story! It is already finished so you lucky people will be receiving a new chapter each week (usually on Saturdays unless otherwise noted). I'm now against leaving an author's note on every chapter, since I really want this to flow like a book, and books do not have A/Ns so you really won't be hearing too much from me. Again, if something comes up I will let you know, but otherwise, I'm just going to sit back and leave you in relative peace. Besides, I'm working on my master's dissertation, so I'll have occupying much of my time!**

**For those who know my other story, I will get back to that in time. I just have zero motivation to finish it until I get this beast out of me.**

**I have done as much research as humanely possible into the _Star Trek_ verse to make this as accurate as I can. Since ST2009 was a bit of an upped original, I'm basically making a mini hybrid between it and TNG, leaning heavily toward the original. If you are a true Trekker, and I have something way off, please let me know and I will try to fix it. Otherwise, it stands as is.**

**I do not own anything related to the _Star Trek Universe_ or anything else Gene Roddenberry or J.J. Abrams has touched.**

**Ok, I think that covers all the boring stuff, so crack on!**

* * *

**Chapter One: Toto, I've Got a Feeling We're Not in Kansas Anymore**

They were coming. The red alerts blaring throughout the station as blasts rocked the frame a good indication he had been found. Stumbling as the station shook from another attack, the dark haired man righted himself and continued down the hallway, quickly making his way through the numerous security checks. They would buy him a bit of time, but they would be no match for the power of the Romulans or god-forgive, the Klingons that were attacking. Passing through the last barrier, he quickly locked down the door, his dark eyes flashing across the console.

Once that was secure, he hurried over to his workstation in the large lab he had occupied for the last few years. The station had been a place of peace for him, working on his theories and experiments in quiet anonymity, but it was only a matter of time until someone learned of his discoveries. Now it appears they had, and it was up to him to prevent his newly discovered apparatus from entering into the wrong hands.

He already secured all the data, calculations and blueprints in a secure hard drive the minute the alarms rang out. There was one access point for the research, and it needed a very specific key to open the information. His head snapped up as loud banging and shouts could be heard outside the lab, the last secure door the only thing holding the pirates back. Sweat pouring down his face, he entered the final calculations and passwords, securing the lock on the machine that dominated most of the space in the lab, as well as beginning the self-destruction sequence he had installed for this kind of emergency.

The red klaxons began to blare louder as the door gave way and several Klingons rushed into the room. Grabbing the phaser in his shaking hands, the dark haired man held the barrel to his head as a stocky, grey haired individual in dark robes sauntered into the lab. Glaring into the cold, hard gaze of his former teacher, the dark man whispered, "Cor unum, via una," before he pulled the trigger and collapsed.

The blue-eyed man frowned in disgust and sighed. That was a casualty he was hoping to avoid. Walking over he nudged the body with his foot, glaring down at his most gifted pupil who had thrown everything away for the sake of humanity. What a simpering fool. Quickly reaching over and deactivating the self-destruct sequence, the man regarded the machine with a calculating eye. Here was the largest piece of the puzzle, one that would make him the most powerful being in the universe. But before he could take control, he needed the rest of the pieces.

Motioning to the Klingons who had accompanied him, he spun on his heel and headed out of the lab, his dark robes whispering softly behind him. He needed to finish a few calculations and then he would be able to attain the greatest prize.

* * *

Spinning. All she could see were colors spinning and swirling around her. Blues, greens, reds and all others converged, changing their intensity and hue as they integrated before separating again and forming new deviations. Quickly she became nauseous between the lights and the moment of physically spiraling. She tried to scream several times, but the moment her mouth opened, centrifugal force shoved the sound back inside her. Just as her panic reached the breaking point, a bright point lit up in front of her eyes, followed by the stomach lurching effect of falling through a newly torn hole in her surroundings. The next thing she knew she was hurtling toward the ground before her world went black.

* * *

_6 months Previous:_

Charlotte Noland could not believe her luck. Not only had she been accepted into a Russell Group university in England, but little did she know how exclusive her program was when she applied. Sitting around the large, tan table in a very Georgian style stone building sat only three other students, all looking apprehensively between each other as they waited for their new Program Directors to arrive.

Charlie tried not to fidget in her seat as she tucked a loose strand of brunette hair behind her ear. She could already feel the blisters forming on the back of her heels after walking from her newly acquired flat in the Stokes Croft area of Bristol all the way to the graduate building on the University of Bristol's campus block. She bit her lip as she noticed how overdressed she really was. In her American mind, the meeting of a master's student and her professors meant that sweat pants and T-shirt would not cut it in the same way an undergrad might. However, as she observed the other two women seated at the table wearing skinny jeans and blouses, she really did not need to wear a black pencil skirt and high heels.

Continuing to bite her lip, her thoughts persisted to swirl in her mind, and Charlie almost breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened and her two new advisors walked in. She smiled cautiously as they took their seats and began the introduction to the program. The more she listened to their description of her new classes, and the types of dissertations she could look forward to, Charlie could not help the feeling of excitement slowly creep back into her system.

She was finally doing it: living her dream. Moving to a new country, and starting a fresh life as a master's student was just what the doctor ordered. While her undergrad in Colorado had been an amazing experience, this American could feel the intuition to branch out further. She was never one to sit still in one place for long, so when the opportunity to study archaeology and television together in England presented itself, she did not just leap at the chance. She full on charged her way through, and never looked back.

Coming back down out of her revive, Charlie focused her attention on her peers as they began a round table introduction. The first person to speak was a mature student, Paul, who, having already formed and sold several profitable companies, was looking into the next big thing and expand his horizons. Charlie smiled slightly as she could relate to such ideas and beliefs. After all, how many blank looks did she receive when she said she was taking her archaeology degree, and turning it toward a career in television?

The next to speak was a petite blond with wide, blue eyes and a ready smile. Philippa was from northern England, as her accent clearly indicated. She spoke of her aunt, the major producer, and how she went against her family by gaining an archaeology undergraduate degree. Every sentence ended in a laugh, and Charlie could already feel a desire to make friends with the Northerner.

After Philippa, the redheaded Kate went next. An Egyptian/British hybrid from London, Kate's bright, almond-shaped brown eyes was the only indication to her Arabic heritage. As she spoke, she smiled widely, her porcelain skin stretching and highlighting her freckles to accompany her flame colored hair. She spoke with an easy flair that Charlie envied, her accent flowing with rise and fall of her voice.

Finally, it was Charlie's turn. As she took a breath, she straightened her spine and spoke fluidly as she addressed her undergraduate degree in conflict archaeology, and her desire to push her skills in the television sector. As she spoke, Charlie saw the other two women were entranced by her descriptions from back in the US. Once she concluded, she smiled again, a new confidence within her as her amber eyes sparkled. The meeting was concluded with the filing of forms and the directions for the beginning of classes the next week. As everyone shuffled out of the room to head off in their respective directions home, Charlie called to both Kate and Philippa who were walking a little ahead of her.

"Hey, do you guys want to head to a coffee shop and get to know each other better?" Charlie asked. "I mean we're going to be shoved together for the next year, so why not begin the torture now?" She chuckled to let them know she was kidding. From what she had observed in her first week in England, their version of humor and hers were two very different things. Philippa and Kate glanced at each other and grinned before agreeing, and the women happily wandered off toward the nearest café.

* * *

_3 Months Previously:_

"Seriously?! I really don't understand how he expects our edits to be any cleaner," Philippa growled as she, Kate and Charlie exited their Making a Short Documentary class. "How long did you spend editing those four minutes, Charlie? Three days? It's utter rubbish in my opinion."

Charlie sighed, rubbing a hand down her face a yawn tried to escape. "Yea, I know, but Peter has a point. I mean the cuts to the outlaying sites were fine, but the interviews are too jumpy. Don't worry, I'll fix it. You guys can count on me."

"Well don't stress yourself out too much, sweetheart," Kate included. "I've seen how you Americans get when you get bothered." She smirked to Philippa good-naturedly. All Charlie could do was roll her eyes heavenward. They'll never let her forget that one night in the pub with the greaser and his roaming hands.

Since their meeting three months prior, the three women were never far from each other's sides, quickly becoming fast friends. While Kate was the natural equalizer, and Philippa the life of the party, Charlie was clearly the leader in their threesome. Some of it came from her being two years older than the other two, but much of it stemmed from her personality. While the other two worried about dissertations and getting the classes, Charlie's attitude was one of confidence and adventure. She had been to all the clubs in Bristol, travelled to the areas in the southwest of England that 'normal' tourists never went. She spent a week in Ireland, not telling anyone she was leaving or when she was coming back. She went up to Scotland on her own after returning home from America after New Year's, and after becoming involved in the student council at the university.

While she was beginning to feel rundown with all the work and the experiences she was having, Charlie knew that if she stopped moving, stopped filling her days with work, the anxious feelings would return. Since she came to England, she felt as if she were waiting for something to happen. Her nerves tingled if she sat still for too long, but no matter how hard she threw herself into the fencing team, or her homework, or meeting other students, the feelings would return. What on earth had her such on edge?

Deciding that she would just chill that weekend, arguing to herself that maybe being stressed as Kate pointed out was the flaw, Charlie waved good-bye to her two friends, stuck in her ear buds and headed off to fencing practice. She was just beginning to get into the song when a man jammed into her shoulder painfully.

"Ow, hey man, watch it!" She snapped, rubbing her shoulder.

"My apologies, Madam," the man said, bowing his fedora-covered head to her, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. His accent was strange, and definitely not British. She glanced up and down his grey trench coat and black shoes poking out from tweed pants, trying to see if his clothing could place him.

"Yea, whatever," She grumbled continuing to rub her shoulder as she turned and headed back on her way, placing her ear bud that was knocked out back in her ear.

She missed the man continuing to watch her as she trekked up the hill toward the sports center. As soon as she was out of sight, the man hurried away, weaving impatiently through the throngs of students rushing home after a day of classes. Dodging down a side alley, he came to rest under an overhanging window in the shadows, his grey, brushing his grey, curling hair off his shoulder. Pulling the needle out of his pocket with which he used to draw the tiny sample of blood from the woman, he quickly spread the red liquid on a small piece of paper. He inserted the piece into a miniature machine he withdrew from the other pocket and waited impatiently as it analyzed the results.

"Well? Will she work?" a deep coarse voice spat from the shadows, casing the man to jump in surprise.

"Patience, Kretorg. These things take time," The man replied, glancing back to the machine in his hands.

"I've had enough of your call for patience, human," The voice spat. "I want to know if she is the one or if we need to move on! We've been looking for over a week in this _hu'tegh_ world! I'm beginning to stink of human. My crew may kill me the minute I return for the stench."

Just when the man was about to make a rather sarcastic reply, the machine in his palm beeped loudly, a green light flashing up into his face. For the first time in over ten years, the man truly smiled.

"Prepare your crew, Captain Kretorg," the man said, his accent pronounced with each passing word. "We've got her."

* * *

_2 Hours Previously:_

Charlie could feel the exhilaration coursing through her veins. She had done it! She had landed a position to complete her practical dissertation at the BBC in Bristol. All the weeks of emailing, calling and finally knocking on doors had landed her the interview with a leading producer in their educational center. The rest she took in stride, never once thinking that they would not take her on. Charlie smiled widely after the producer said he would oversee her dissertation with them. She was practically skipping down the street toward the nearest park, hardly able to contain her excitement as she rushed to tell Kate and Philippa.

Almost running up the hill, Charlie saw her two friends sitting under a large tree as they waited for her. Waving widely, and with the huge smile hardly leaving her face, she attracted their attention. Springing up off the bench they were occupying, the two natives ran over to where Charlie stood, her chest heaving with the exertions of climbing the hill.

"Well?!" shouted Kate as soon as she near. "How'd it go? Did you get it?"

Charlie just continued to grin, her eyes a bright sparkle on the dank, overcast day. Slowly she nodded as the other two erupted in squeals of joy, hugging their American friend as she, too, surged with joy.

Just as the women were coming down off their high, Charlie noticed an odd shadow hiding under a few boughs in a neighboring garden. Her head tilted to the side while her smile slid from her face as she recognized the silhouette, although she could not place where.

"What is it?" Philippa asked, sensing her friends quick tensing. She glanced over her shoulder in the same direction, her eyes trying to lock on the object of Charlie's rapt fascination. Just then, a gust of wind hit the women, billowing their hair and clothes as swiftly as a tornado. Charlie could feel her feet leave the ground as she was drawn upwards toward an unknown object. Fear constricted her chest as she noticed both of her friends were lost in the same sensation. When she was more than twenty feet in the air, whatever was holding her released its captives, plunging the women toward the park. They screamed as a swirling massed opened below them, swallowing the women with barely a whisper. Just as quickly, the mass was gone, leaving no indication of its existence, or of the three women who were standing there moments before.

In the shadows, a man smirked, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling in amusement. After years of research, calculations, and searching both time and space for the last piece of the puzzle, his plan was finally about to be fully operational. While the other two women were a miscalculation, they would in no way impede him in his quest. Soon, no one in the galaxy would be safe.

The sound of birdsong was the first item to enter into her consciousness. Groaning from the slight pain and dizziness in her head, Charlie slowly opened her amber eyes, blinking at the bright light. Hissing in pain, she snapped her eyes shut and slowly sat up as she rubbed her eyes. Blinking one open and then the other, she took stock of her soundings, noticing both Philippa and Kate sprawled next to her still unconscious. Shoving her windblown hair from her face, she observed the crater she now found herself in, noting the leveled trees radiating from her position. She glanced up toward the teal colored sky and what she saw stopped her heart in its tracks. Instead of an overcast, grey sky, a large orange devil glowed down at her. What was worse, however, was not the one, but _two_ crescent moons framing the large star. Charlie blinked, her mind not comprehending what she was seeing.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," she mumbled, before she screamed.

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**This will be my only attempt at shaming you into reviews. Please leave them as motivation for my dissertation. But seriously, if you don't like this, don't read it. Critiques, fine, but no flames. I worked really hard on this, and I'm not looking for any profit except maybe a few confidence boosters. **

**On that note, I hope you all enjoy Cor Unum!**


	2. Chapter Two: Fasten Your Seatbelts

**Chapter Two: Fasten Your Seatbelts. It's Going to Be a Bumpy Ride**

As the scream died in her throat, Charlie realized her friends were not waking up, and quickly leaped to attention. Her hands were shaking as she turned Kate onto her back, checking her vitals for life. Her heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline, attempting to understand where they were and how they could have ended up in this position. Soon, both women began to show signs of consciousness as Charlie maneuvered around them, looking for any blood or other outward appearances of distress.

"Oh my head," groaned Kate as she sat up, massaging her skull.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked, examining Kate's head more thoroughly.

"I think so," replied Kate with a nod, dropping her hand.

"What the bloody hell happened?" growled Philippa, as she too sat up, dusting dirt from her multicolored blouse. "Where in the bloody hell are we?"

Charlie stood up and glanced down at her friends, worrying her bottom lip as she realized the full gravity of their situation.

"Honestly? I don't know," she replied with a sigh before straightening her spine. "But wherever we are, we aren't going to find help sitting here."

"Wait. Are … Are those…..two moons?" Kate gasped, pointing upwards. Quickly, Philippa's eyes darted into the air, growing larger by each passing second. Charlie had hoped to get the women moving before they had seen the sky, praying for the ability to mask their full situation so as not to frighten them. With that plan gone, all she could do was nod as both Kate and Philippa reacted in the same way Charlie had not a half hour before. Both women let out an ear-piercing scream that sent creatures in the nearby woods to fly up into the air with annoyed squawks.

Kate kept chanting, "Oh my god. Oh my god."

Meanwhile, Philippa's eyes filled with fear-induced tears, her mouth moving but no more sound emerging once her scream had died. Finally, she burst out,

"WHERE IN THE FUCKING HELL ARE WE?!"

Kate, her eyes wide with fear as well, looked to Philippa and then up to Charlie who had flinched at Philippa's outburst. Recognizing the situation could get out of hand very quickly, Charlie kneeled down in front of her two very terrified friends, taking one of their hands in her own.

"Listen," she began. "I'm not going to sugarcoat this. I have no idea where we are, or how we got here, but I promise you, to the bottom of my heart that no matter what happens I will get you both home, understand? I will fix this."

"How?" cried Philippa, her tears overflowing to course down her cheeks. "Like you said, you don't know how we got here. How are you going to get us home?"

Charlie sighed, running a hand through her hair and then pulled Philippa into a hug to try to calm her fears. While her own heart was beating painfully in her chest, and her hands felt clammy, she had to be strong for her friends.

"I don't know, Philly," she murmured. "But I'll think of something. Now come on." Charlie pulled back and stood up while bringing the other women to their feet. Spinning around, she picked a direction and headed off towards the woods. "We need to get moving and find water and shelter before the … um … sun … sets. And so I can figure this out." The last part she mumbled to herself as she the led her friends into the unknown.

Several hours later, three dirty, sweaty, and exhausted women were stumbling through the dense underbrush of a forest, the leader using a stick to swipe vines and other vegetation out of the way and clear a path for those behind her. Charlie, her head pounding from dehydration, was trying not to let her growing anxiety alarm the other two. For all the walking they had done, they had only come across a few small springs, none of which was drinkable for the stranded women. Painful blisters were beginning to develop on her heels as she continued to walk, and Charlie thanked the Lord that she had decided to dress casually for the interview. While her knee-high leather boots and brown denim skinny jeans were no means hiking wear, they were much better than stilettos and a skirt. The other two women were lucky also to be wearing sensible shoes for walking in the woods, but they too were beginning to feel the effects of blisters.

"Charlie, can we take a break?" Kate breathlessly asked, her hands coming down to rest on her knees as she bent over to breathe easier. While the woods they were in were not terribly warm, the women were layered for March in England. Already their outer coats and jackets had been shed, and they were close to losing their long sleeve blouses as well.

Charlie looked back and could see exhaustion was prevalent on Kate and Philippa's faces, and while she knew they needed to find water, and find it quickly, she agreed to take a breather, gesturing for them to take a seat next to a large set of boulders.

"Do you think anyone's looking for us back home, yet?" Kate asked timidly, smearing a bit of dirt of her forehead as she went to wipe the sweat off.

"I hope so," Charlie answered, pulling up her sleeve and removing the dirt from Kate's face. Reaching into her purse that was lucky enough to make the journey with her, she pulled out the half-filled water bottle and handed it to Kate first, who then passed it to Philippa, each taking a quick swallow more to wet their throats than parch their thirst. Unknown to the other women, Charlie only took half the amount they had, trying to save as much as possible, especially since it appeared they were not going to find anything soon.

"It's not like they're going to know where to look," Philippa added bitterly. "I mean it's not as if we are anywhere resembling Somerset or Wiltshire."

"That may be true," replied Charlie. "But it doesn't mean we can give up trying to get back."

Just as Philippa was about to reply, a loud crashing alerted the women to the approach of someone . . . or something. Fear locked Charlie's heart, causing her to crouch low and bring her friends with her. She was in a strange land, and something that sounded that _big_ may not be the aid she was looking for.

Motioning for the girls to keep silent, Charlie inched forward around the boulder as stealthily as possible to get a better look at what was approaching. What she saw hitched the breath in fear. It was not one large thing, but a legion of heavily armed . . . things. Their dark hair was long and tangled, and their skin a dark brown to almost black. Large ridges ran up the bridge of their noses and onto their large foreheads. Their frames were enormous and stocky, and Charlie had no doubt they were incredibly strong and powerful, the large curved blades strapped to their backs a menacing clue. Her eyes widened as one spoke, a rough, guttural language rolling from his lips. If she didn't know any better, the creatures in front of her looked like . . .

"Klingons?" she whispered.

But no, that was impossible. Klingons did not exist, at least not _real_ Klingons. However, the sky just above her head where an orange sun different from her own and two moons were shinning bright as day told her that if they existed, so too could real Klingons.

"Well … shit."

Waiting for the group to pass along a small, unmarked path that ran on the other side of the boulders, Charlie quietly retreated to where Kate and Philippa were still hiding. They were sitting with their backs to the rocks whispering fearfully to each other.

"Well? What was it?" Kate whispered as soon as she spotted Charlie.

Charlie looked between the two women, her lip drawn between her teeth in indecision. Should she tell them what she saw and risk scaring them further, or keep them moving, but unprepared if they were to come across more Klingons?

"I . . . um . . . we may have a bit of a problem," Charlie confessed, understanding that the more information Kate and Philippa had, the more likely they were to survive.

"More than what we are already in?" Philippa guffawed.

"Yea, a bit," Charlie sighed rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay, you both are probably going to think I'm insane, but whatever. You know _Star Trek,_ correct?" At the nod of both girls, Charlie continued. "Well, those things over there, they look like . . . Klingons."

"Klingons?" Kate repeated unconvinced, almost as if she was tasting the unfamiliar word on her tongue. "Are you sure you are okay, Charlie? Maybe we should try to make camp here. You've been pushing yourself really hard—"

"I know what I saw," Charlie snapped, interrupting Kate who eyes widened. Never before had the 'wrath of the American' as she called it turned towards her. Taking a breath to calm her growing alarm, Charlie apologized, "I'm sorry, Kate. I shouldn't snap. But I know what I saw, and if they aren't . . . Klingons, then I don't know what they are. But they are not human, that is for damn sure."

"So what do we do?" Philippa whispered glancing over her shoulder as shouting could be heard on the other side of the boulders.

Charlie rose up slightly to see a couple Klingons taking a stand far too close to their hiding spot, shoving at one another in agitation. Realizing that they were in a precarious position, Charlie gestured for silence and then pointed down the slope from where they were perched. The women nodded and as quietly as they could, slinked away down the hill, hiding behind bushes until they could not hear the guttural language anymore.

"So if they are Klingons, like you said," Kate called as they began carefully to walk up another slope further down from their previous location. "Doesn't that make them our friends? I mean wasn't there a Klingon in _Next Generation_?"

Charlie sighed, running a hand through her dark, sweaty hair as she tried to get her bearings. Glancing back, she reached down to pull Philippa up onto the small cliff she had just climbed.

"Yes and no," she answered, helping Kate up as well. "See the problem is on top of not knowing where we are, I also don't know _when_."

"What different does that make?" Philippa panted, weaving around a couple of trees as she stumbled up the hill.

"It makes a big difference," Charlie answered steadying Philippa. "If we are in the same timeline as the _Next Generation_, then Kate's right. They are our friends and could probably help us. But if we're in an earlier timeline….." she trailed off, noticing it was becoming brighter further ahead of them. Jogging up to the top of the hill, Charlie crouched down behind a large bush, pulling braches aside to look upon the clearing on the other side as she quickly caught her breath.

"Then what?" Philippa asked as she and Kate came to crouch behind the bush as well.

Her brown eyes flicking back and forth, observing the events taking place in the meadow, Charlie whispered, "They will kill us on sight."

She glanced back into the scared faces of her two closet friends. Piercing her lips at her own calloused words, she quickly pulled both into a fierce hug, whispering into their ears, "But I won't let that happen, ya hear? I'll protect you."

She glanced heavenward, praying that she could keep that promise. Pulling back to look them in the eye and emphasize her point, she smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. Spinning back around, Charlie pulled the leaves out of the way again, watching the action taking place below.

Two groups were obviously battling one another, laser jets of lights flasing between them. One set of fighters wearing different colored shirts were huddled behind a cluster of rocks just down the slope, about 500 feet below where the women were hiding. The valley they were in was riddled with boulders in all shapes and sizes with straw colored grass filling the spaces in-between. Occasionally someone would stand up, or slink around the side of the rocks and send off a volley of their weapons before dunking back again. On the opposite side of the valley, a group of what appeared to be the same Klingons they almost ran into before would follow suit, sending wave after wave of fire on the outnumbered band. A couple members of the multicolored troop had already been hit, their bodies sprawled on the ground, and Charlie could hear them shouting for help, but from where she did not know. Squinting, she could almost believe that the uniforms resembled those of the _Original Series_ but as far away as she was, she could not be sure.

Movement to her left caught Charlie's attention, and she watched as a group of five Klingons took up position on an outcrop just below their hiding place, trying to flank what she assumed were Starfleet officers. Her eyes widening when she realized the officers were unaware of the ambush being constructed before her eyes. She knew that if the group were Starfleet, they would be her and her friends' only hope of rescue, and to have them die at the hands of these Klingons did not fit into her plan to keep her friends safe. Knowing she had to do something, she quickly got the attention of Kate and Philippa who were watching the exchanges going on below them with frightened fascination.

"Okay guys, pay attention. See those people down there in the colored shirts? Yes? Okay. I need you, when I give the signal, to run down to them as fast as you can. No, don't speak," Charlie said, placing her hand over Kate's mouth as she tried to speak. "No matter what you hear behind you, don't look back and do _not_ stop running until you are with them, understand? Do. Not. Stop. Ask them for asylum, or for help, I don't care. Just get them to take you back with them."

"What about you? You're coming with us, are you not?" Philippa asked breathlessly, her fear apparent.

"Of course, I'm going to be right behind you," Charlie assured, gripping Philippa's shoulder. "I just have to take care of something first."

"What are you going to do?" Kate asked as Charlie handed Philippa her bag and walked behind them to grab a thick, long branch from the forest floor.

"Giving you guys a head start." Before Philippa or Kate could protest, and before she could question herself, Charlie had run into the clearing toward the pack of Klingons down below. With as loud a cry as she could, Charlie swung the branch at the first Klingon's head, using all the fear and frustration she had been feeling since waking up in the strange forest into the swing. Taking the Klingons by surprise, she was able to knock the first one off the ridge they were currently standing on, sending him down onto a group of sharp stones.

"RUN NOW!" she screamed as Kate and Philippa took off behind her down the slope. Her goal now was to keep the other four occupied to give her friends a chance to reach the others. Swinging the branch again at the second Klingon, she no longer had the advantage of surprise, but she was able to knock his phaser from his hand. Swearing at her in Klingon, Charlie dodged a blow to her head and spun away, shoving the butt of the branch into his backside and sending him to follow his mate. The next Klingon stepped forward on the narrow ridge, barring his sharp and rotten teeth. Grimacing in disgust, Charlie swung the branch again, but this Klingon was anticipating it and caught the branch in his hand, sending shockwaves down the club into Charlie's arm. With a giant yank, he ripped the weapon from Charlie's hand, a scream drawn from her as several splinters imbedded themselves in her flesh. Backing up and looking up into his gloating face, she stumbled and fell, the phaser from earlier resting by her head. Without thinking, she grabbed the weapon and pointed at the Klingon, pulling the trigger as a burst of light sprang forth and hit him in the chest. Quickly he toppled, to the roar of the two behind him reminding her there were still others she needed to defend against.

Her hand was shaking as the fear finally began to overtake her earlier adrenaline rush. She fired again as the other Klingons came into view, but her panic caused her to hit the boulder next to him, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Both laughed as she began to scramble backwards as they neared, glancing over her shoulder to see Kate and Philippa had reached the group from Starfleet relatively unarmed. Sighing in relief as one problem was taken care of, Charlie's attention reverted to the issue at hand. Climbing to her feet as quickly as she could, she watched as the Klingon removed the very long, very deadly looking curved blade from his back, grinning at the fear reflected in her wide eyes. Shaking, she lifted the phaser to try to hit him again, but with a mighty shout, he swiped the blade towards her defenseless body. She screamed and leaped backwards, falling off the shallow end of the cliff, but not before the tip caught her lower stomach, carving a gash through her shirt and lower abdomen.

With a grunt of pain, she landed hard on her back, the phaser flying out of her hands as her head slammed into the ground, a kaleidoscope of stars bursting in front of her eyes. She shook her pounding skull to clear it, knowing of the danger still near, and watched the Klingon as he made a move to jump down to where she had landed. Before he could take a step, however, two beams of light struck him in the arm and chest, and he went down, blocking his other friend on the narrow ridge. Snapping her head to where the shots were fired from, she saw a man dressed in gold a few hundred feet away pointing his weapon toward the Klingon.

"Come on!" he shouted gesturing for her to follow while shooting several more beams at the final Klingon, preventing him from moving further. Wrapping an arm around her bleeding abdomen, Charlie clambered to her feet and jogged behind the man as he turned and ran down the slope while the others provided cover fire. The pain from her stomach and head made Charlie nauseous, and the world was spinning at an alarming rate, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to keep stumbling forward. As she came to stand with the others, both Kate and Philippa grabbed her arms, trying to keep her standing as she sagged against them.

The man who had saved her flipped open some kind of hand held machine once he reached the group, shouting into it, "Kirk to _Enterprise_, ten to beam up! Now, Mister Scott!"

A strange tingling sensation spread throughout Charlie's body as white dots began to swim in front of her eyes. She glanced toward the cliffs she just vacated and watched to her horror as the last Klingon began to run toward the group, a dagger in his hand. Without a second thought, Charlie pulled Philippa behind her as he threw the knife towards her friend before the world dissolved into white.


	3. Chapter Three: Ego

**Chapter Three: Your Ego is Writing Checks Your Body Can't Cash**

As the white swirling particles dissipated, they revealed a brightly lit room full of men and women in blue, red, or gold uniforms. Charlie blinked, a deep numbness entering into her system as her knees gave out, slamming onto the pad she stood on. Distantly she heard Philippa and Kate scream her name as she glanced down to see a black handle sticking out of her shirt. Her head tilted to the side, not quite connecting a foreign object was imbedded in her torso.

Swallowing, she glanced up as a pair of bright, sky blue eyes full of concern entered into her line of sight. Black spots began to pop up in front of her vision, and all she wanted to do was close her heavy eyelids and go to sleep. Slumping forward, she was vaguely aware of arms catching her, and being lifted up. Her head continued to swim and she came in and out of consciousness, watching as bright lights of a hallway kept flicking past her eyes as someone carried her somewhere. Quickly she was placed on a bed, and after an annoying pinch to the side of her neck, she finally gave in to the wonderful emptiness of unconsciousness.

* * *

There had been only a handful of events to occur that surprised Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_ since taking command of the Federation flagship eighteen months ago. But nothing seemed to compare to seeing two women running toward him as if their life depended on it, _in the middle of a Klingon firefight_, while gesturing wildly behind themselves to show their slight friend battling not one, but five Klingons. He was actually a bit astounded that their friend was able to best not two, but three of the aliens before being overpowered. On the other hand she was a civilian, and it became painfully obvious when she miss fired the phaser and then fell off the cliff. While Kirk was impressed by her bravery, he knew that the women could not defend herself much longer, so he made the executive decision to leave the protection of his Away Team, dispatch the Klingon, and get her out of there. Besides, any opportunity to piss off a Klingon was a good opportunity in his book.

Kirk had to hand it to her though; the woman had a good deal of courage to attack five Klingons singlehandedly. Plus, even if it was just to himself, he would admit he was not aware they were flanking his left side until she attacked them. Instead, he had been too focused on the group that had ambushed him and his Away Team as they completed a routine planet side survey. In fact, he did not even detect the Klingons when they scanned the planet, which was odd.

When Kirk heard her knees hit the transporter pad, he knew something was wrong. Turning around he watched as she dispassionately noticed the sharp blade imbedded to the hilt, her eyes glassy and unfocussed. The minute their atoms were back in place onboard, Kirk was prepared to order Sulu and Chekov to get them the hell out of there, hopefully before an armada of War Birds decided to make an appearance. What he was not prepared to see, however, was a Klingon d'k tahg sticking out of the woman's abdomen. Her friends were screaming her name when they noticed the blood covering her hands and body, frantically trying to get her to remain calm while they did the panicking for her.

Quickly he kneeled down, looking into Charlie's (as he picked up from the screaming) bleary, dark eyes, but he was not entirely sure she was aware of his presence. Even before he caught her as she lost consciousness, he realized she was losing precious blood and time. He quickly scooped her up into his arms and hurried toward sickbay, calling for Scotty to alert Bones that he was bringing Charlie while her friends ran along behind, panic swirling in their eyes.

As the doors to sickbay slid open, Kirk hurried over to the nearest biobed, depositing her on it as softly as he could, hoping to prevent anymore internal damage. He stepped back quickly as several nurses and Bones rushed in, sedating the woman as they began to prep her for surgery.

"Jesus Jim, what the hell happened?!" Bones snapped as he quickly checked over Charlie's vitals and prepped her for surgery.

"Klingons," Kirk shrugged.

"Well that's a bit obvious, you moron! Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a mind reader."

Glancing over his shoulder, Jim noticed Charlie's two friends stood unmoving in the entrance to sickbay, watching with tear-filled eyes at the swarm around their friend.

"It doesn't matter Bones, just fix her."

"What is it you think I'm doing?!" snapped Bones who dove into removing the blade while preventing any more blood loss.

Knowing he was needed on the bridge, Kirk turned around to head to the turbolift, but not before he stopped in front of the women, drawing their attention to his presence.

"Don't worry," he said, hoping to inspire some confidence. "My CMO won't let anything happen to your friend. He'll have her fixed her up and fighting Klingons in no time."

The taller of the two, with flaming red hair smiled slightly and nodded, whispering in a surprising British accent, "Thank you for all your help, Sir."

Gripping her shoulder in support, he quickly rushed by them toward the bridge, although his thoughts lingered in sickbay and the woman fighting for her life.

* * *

The first thing to enter into her awareness as she awoke from a long, dark dream was the soft beeping of medical equipment. Charlie listened for a few moments, the methodical sounds almost sending her back into the black world of sleep, but the whispering near her perked up her brainwaves enough to prevent unconsciousness. She was aware she was lying down, but how she got there, she could not quite remember. Snippets of scenes were playing behind her eyelids, but what was a dream and what was real she could not distinguish. Everything appeared to bleed into one big beating.

The whispering became louder, as if the individuals were coming closer, and quickly Charlie recognized Kate and Philippa's voices.

"When do you think she'll wake up?" Kate murmured.

"I don't know. Soon, I hope," Philippa replied. "The doctor said the medication he gave her should only keep her under a few hours."

The rustling of fabric indicated the girls had sat down near Charlie's sleeping position. As much as she wanted to, her eyes would not open, feeling as if weights were holding them down.

"That doctor sure is handsome, even if his temperament is a bit . . . sour," Kate confessed, a bit of wistfulness in her tone.

"I guess, but don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you in Swansea once we get back?" Philippa admonished.

"Yes I do, but you cannot blame a woman for looking. As Charlie would say, he was fine." The two girls giggled, the last statement said in horrible imitation of an American accent. Smiling, Charlie attempted to roll over toward the voices, a small groan leaving her lips in the stiffness of her muscles. Using a monumental effort, she blinked her eyes open, seeing her two friends sitting on a bed next to hers. At her groan, they both leap off, rushing to her side.

"Oh Charlie! Oh thank God you're awake," Kate cried in relief, petting her hand as if afraid to touch anywhere else.

"How do you feel, dear?" Philippa asked as she stood next to Kate. Her blue eyes were warm with relief.

Trying in vain to swallow, her mouth and throat bone dry, Charlie croaked, "Like hell. Where are we?"

"Somewhere called the _Enterprise_ apparently," Philippa answered, shrugging.

"Where?" Charlie asked, more alarmed. No way could they have landed on THE_ Enterprise_! Fate just could not work like that, because if there were a ship and crew to help solve their problems, it would that one.

"Hold on, I'm going to go get Dr. McCoy. He said to alert him when you woke up," Kate explained, leaving Charlie's side and walking over to a set of windows, she knocked on them to gain the attention on someone on the other side. Looking around, Charlie realized they were in an isolated area, the room stark white with only a three different looking beds in the space. The wall by Kate held the only access point, a glass door with a half window next to it. The wall in front of Charlie was half glass and half plaster, the blinds pulled down on all the windows, blocking the view to the outside hallway.

Glancing back to Philippa, she gesture to the cup of water near her head. Nodding, Philippa lifted the cup to Charlie's lips as she satisfied her thirst, the delicious feeling of the cool liquid flowing down her throat almost bringing tears to her eyes. Pulling back, Philippa placed the cup on the table again as Charlie sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The water had rejuvenated something in her, and her head was clearing more each second.

"Charlie, I don't think you should get up," Philippa objected, her hands coming to Charlie's shoulders to try to push her back down.

"I'm fine, Philippa," Charlie lied, gritting her teeth. While she was not in pain, something in her abdomen did not feel _right_, but that was not going to prevent her from getting up and taking control of the situation. If they were indeed on that legendary spaceship, then she needed to speak to the Captain and First Officer as soon as she could to get her and her friends home. "I just need to—"

"And where do you think you're going?" a thick, southern voice snapped from behind her. Her butt quickly hitting the bed, Charlie twisted around, catching sight of an irate looking man with his hands on his hips. His dark hair swept off his face, revealing a pair of blue eyes and a scowl marring his lips. Kate was standing behind him, looking slightly sheepish at the glare he was radiating toward her injured friend.

"I, uh, I was—"

"You were what? Potentially damaging three hours' worth of regeneration surgery? You know I'm a doctor, I've got better things to do than repeatedly patching up an impatient woman."

Narrowing her eyes in irritation, Charlie sarcastically replied, "Goodness, what side of the bed did you wake up on this morning? The Hulk's?"

He smirked and shot back, "yea, and if you don't want me to turn into a big, green rage monster you'll lay back down before I numb everything south of your neck." Her eyes widening at the promise to carry out the threat in his eyes, she grudgingly laid back against the raised bed. "Good. At least you can take some semblance of an order. Now hold still while I complete these scans so I can see how badly you screwed up my work." The doctor approached, a pad of some kind in one hand while he flipped open another smaller device, running it up and down her body.

"How long was I out?" She asked cautiously, afraid of another threat thrown at her.

"About six hours," he replied, glancing between monitors above her head and the pad in his hand. "You had a stab wound and severe lacerations to your abdomen, plus a stage three concussion." Pulling his eyes from the screens, he glared at Charlie as he scolded, "But from what I hear you were stupid enough to take on five Klingons _by yourself_. You're lucky those were the only injuries you had, otherwise we should have been scrapping you off the planet's surface."

"So they were Klingons?" Charlie questioned ignoring the jab. While every indication pointed toward that assessment, Charlie was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was in a completely different universe.

"Of course they were Klingons! What did you think they were? Tribbles?" The doctor regarded her skeptically, not quite believing she did not know what a Klingon was.

"No! That's not what I . . . oh, never mind," Charlie scowled irritated. She still had a small headache, and while she knew that Dr. McCoy was a bit of a sourpuss, she was in no mood to deal with his attitude.

Snorting at her less that fluent answer, the doctor continued to scan different areas of Charlie, paying particularly close attention to her head and abdomen. His eyes were confused for a moment before he scowled while skimming his readings. "You too?" he growled.

"Pardon?" Charlie asked, confused.

"Do you come from a hippie colony?"

"I . . . what?"

"Well you and your two friends here have no medical records that I can find, and you don't appear to have any of the necessary vaccinations that I can pick up on any scanner. The only conclusion I can think of is you came from one of those hippie colonies that don't believe in modern medicine. Just _Peace and Love_ and all that nonsense_._"

Charlie regarded the scowling doctor, trying to see if he was being serious or not. Seeing no signs of humor of any kind she practically sputtered, "Of course we're not from a hippie colony!"

"If you're not from a hippie colony, then why can't I find any of your medical records? A blood sample should have instantly pulled them up, but you, woman, no. Oh no, I had to spend the last three hours looking for _anything_ with your DNA."

"Well maybe your medical records aren't up to snuff then," Charlie snapped back, although she knew there would be no current records on her.

"My medical records are fine."

"Obviously not."

"Well fine, I'm going to ask you a couple questions then to get your basic information and bring my records 'up to snuff.' Can you handle it?" McCoy taunted.

"I don't know, can you?" Charlie spouted back.

The doctor smirked at her rebuke, typing a few things into his PADD. "Alright,alright, easy Killer, I'll play nice now if you will."

Charlie glanced at Kate and Philippa who nodded, sitting on the bed next to her. To see them both there, and unhurt calmed the wild panic that began to rage inside her.

"Go ahead."

"Oh thank you," he mumbled sarcastically. "Name?"

"Charlotte."

"_Full_ name," McCoy glared over his PADD.

Charlie sighed. "Charlotte Elizabeth Noland."

"Place of Birth?"

"New York City."

"Date of Birth?"

"April 15th"

"Year?"

"Don't you know you aren't supposed to ask a woman her age, Doctor," Charlie quipped.

"Are you going to give me a straight answer?"

"Not really. Listen, while I'm enjoying this little procedure, it is vitally important that my friends and I speak to your captain as soon as possible."

"And what is so important that you cannot wait for me to finish my exam?" McCoy asked.

"When I have informed the captain, I will let you know."

"Listen here missy, I'm not sure what it's like back where you're from, but on this ship I tend to pull a bit of weight, and people are inclined to answer my questions."

"I told you, Doctor, I will answer any and all questions until I'm blue in the face, after we have a word with the captain."

"Come on, Charlie. Don't be so stubborn," Kate admonished quietly.

Mr. McCoy sighed, rubbing a hand down his face completely annoyed. "Okay, fine. You don't want to tell me anything, that's okay. But if you want me to actually _help you_, you're going to have to be honest with me. Understand?" Scowling, she nodded. "Good. For now, I'm going to just give you a few broad based vaccines before I release you into the ship's population since I can't seem to find your medical history. You also need to go through a few regeneration cycles before those wounds are completely healed."

"How long will that take, Doctor?" Kate asked, realizing that an irritated Charlie was not going to help them in this situation, and she knew they could use all the help they could get.

"Why? Have somewhere to be?"

Kate's eyes widened, "No I was just—"

McCoy exhaled, his irritation at being first interrupted in his experiments, and then having the Captain drop not one but three mysteries into his hands had been rising steadily over the last few hours. "Relax, I'm not going to bite. I'll release you two soon, once I know your vaccines are fully integrated in your system. Don't want you contaminating half the population, or they you. But you, kid," McCoy directed his attention to his more injured patient. "I'm keeping you here till at least tomorrow. And I'll strap you down if you try to leave."

Charlie scowled at the doctor, practically daring him to make good on this threat. She needed to see the captain, and she needed to see him now, but with Mr. Scrooge monitoring her, she might have to rely on her friends to send the message. Turning her head to address Kate and Philippa, Charlie missed the movement of McCoy as he shifted to administer a hypospray. All she knew when she opened her mouth to speak was a surprisingly painful pinch on the side of her neck, making her recoil in alarm.

"OW! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?!" she grimaced, slapping her hand to the side of her neck to protect the delicate flesh from any more abuse.

"Oh don't be such an infant," the doctor scoffed. "You're friends here had no problem with the vaccines."

"That's because they're BRITISH!" she snapped. Both Kate and Philippa looked on with wide eyes, although smiles were tugging at their lips by their friend's erratic behavior. Charlie had a way of entertaining the Brits by her American manners, no matter what situation they were in. "Even if they don't like something, they're too polite and well-mannered to say anything, _especially_ to someone in authority."

"Pity you didn't learn from them," McCoy barked, leaning in to administer another one.

Charlie scooted away as far as she could, asserting, "No way, man. You're not coming near my neck with one of those things."

"Listen—"

"See, Bones? I said you get trigger happy with those things," a voice interjected. Standing behind McCoy, Captain Kirk was regarding the scene with a barely concealed smirk on his face. His eyes were alight with mischief, amused to see such a small woman putting up such a large fight against a doctor who had made grown men cry.

"Jim, what the hell are you doing in here?!" McCoy snapped, glaring at the man behind him. "This area is quarantined."

"Relax, I went through the decontamination sonic chamber before I came in," he remarked, unfolding his arms and sauntering up to the group. "Hello ladies," he flirted, sending a bright smile to Kate and Philippa who practically melted under the sheer shine of it. Charlie was surprised to see the very person she needed to speak with standing in sickbay as if he were answering her summons. It was almost _too_ fortuitous in her opinion that she regarded his appearance skeptically.

"Captain, if I may, we— ow! Stop that!" Charlie snapped shocked as McCoy used her temporary distraction by the Captain to administer another hypospray.

The Captain laughed as she glared at the unapologetic doctor. "Trust me, I know the feeling," Kirk responded, rubbing his own neck in remembrance.

"Watch it, or I might find another one for you there, kid," McCoy threatened as he deposited the empty canisters in a nearby bin. Kirk raised his hands in surrender, not willing to agitate his already irritated CMO. He watched, amused as Charlie continued to rub her neck, shooting daggers at the doctor.

"Can I see you a moment, Bones?" Kirk asked, and at McCoy's nod, he pulled the man away. Charlie frowned as the Captain and McCoy headed over to the corner away from their curious ears.

"You don't think they're talk about us, do you?" Kate asked as she slid off the bed, reaching for the water on the table while she kept her gaze on the pair.

"If it means we can stare at that Captain more, they can talk about us all they like," Philippa purred, her eyes hungrily gazing at the man in command gold.

"Easy there, Philly," Charlie laughed, dropping her hand away from her neck. "He's our ticket to get home."

"Well he's one fit looking ticket," Philippa joked. The women laughed quietly amongst themselves.

"Have either of you talked to the Captain or the doctor?" Charlie asked after a moment.

The other women shook their heads. "No, we weren't sure what to tell them," Kate explained. "I mean we don't even know how to explain how we are here. Or where here is exactly."

"The doctor was asking us a lot of questions, before you woke up," Philippa added. "But we tried to not be so keen with our answers. As Kate said, we didn't even know what to tell them. Can they even help us?"

"Yes, I think they can," Charlie assured quickly. "It's strange to think that we are in a universe that isn't supposed to exist, but through fate or whatever, we ended up with the one group of people that can always save the day. I don't know how but they do."

"They saved you, didn't they?" Kate added with a smile.

Charlie's smile was somewhat sadder in response. The reality of what could have happened to her was becoming clearer the longer she sat in that tiny room in sickbay. While the pain of injury was gone, she could still remember the feel of the blade in her body, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She had come so close that if no one had been there to save her, she very well could have died protecting the two women who were like sisters. But as Kate pointed out, someone had been there, and she would be very grateful toward the man in gold.

"So how do we explain who we are?" Philippa asked after a moment of quiet reflection between them. "We cannot dodge their questions forever. And I'm rather keen on getting home to my doggies as soon as possible."

Charlie pulled herself up straighter, wincing a bit at the pull on her wounds. "We tell them the truth. They can't help us if we don't help them, so we tell them everything we know and hopefully they don't think we're nuts."

"Oh don't worry about that," Kate said with confidence. "As you said, we're British. We will be proper good sports about it."

Charlie glanced over at the pair in the corner, watching the exchange as the Captain smacked the doctor on the shoulder in a show of support. His head turned to regard the women, sending Charlie a cheeky little half grin as he made his way over.

"Well girls," Charlie indicated as the Captain and doctor made their way back over. "Here's our chance."


	4. Chapter Four: Failure to Communicate

**Hello! I want to say how overwhelmed I am by the amount of positive feedback I've been given for this story. It has really thrilled me to read how much you all enjoy Cor Unum :D**

**So, for both the positive response, and because I'm going to be in London and Oxford all weekend meeting with my dissertation producer, I decided to post early for all of you. It means you'll have to wait until June for the next chapter, but I hope this will tide you over till then. Thank you all for reading this and posting your reviews :)**

* * *

**Chapter Four: What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate**

The minute he walked into sickbay, Jim Kirk was more than a little relieved to see the woman he saved coherent and putting on a surprising good fight against Bones's attempts to administer a hypospray. Having been on the receiving end on more than a few of those little devils, Kirk could understand her reluctance, and he couldn't help but grin at her behavior. A feeling he appeared to share with her two friends whose faces lit up with knowing smirks. Apparently, they had seen behavior like this from her before. Interesting.

Moments after Bones had sent him word on the Bridge that the woman was awake, Kirk had felt a sense of relief course through him. He was indebted to her for her actions on Nimbus III; she saved not only him, but also several members of his crew. Granted she was almost killed in the process, but for her actions he would do anything in his power to aid her and her friends should they need it. He was also more than a little curious on how three Terran women ended up on a planet so close to both the Romulan and Klingon Empires. Not many Federation vessels traveled to this area of the galaxy; Kirk having to get special permission to enter the Neutral Zone to study the planet, let alone randomly travel to it. This was not a vacation spot for spring break or any other holiday, and there was no indication of a crashed vessel when they scanned the planet. Then again, neither were there Klingons, he thought ruefully.

After gaining the attention of the group, he couldn't help but send one of his dashing 'captain' smiles to the women, two of them instantly reacting as he expected. However, the Klingon-fighter just regarded him speculatively. Her dark eyes bore into his own with surprising shrewdness, appearing to be unmoved by one of his signature tricks. Kirk could already hear his First Officer Spock muttering 'fascinating' by her atypical reaction. On the other hand, he wouldn't mind a bit of a challenge. Shrugging off the momentary lapse of skill, Kirk regarded the strange woman as she opened her mouth.

"Captain, if I may, we— ow! Stop that!" she hissed slapping a hand to her neck as she glared at Bones. Unable to prevent the laugh that escaped, Kirk was unsurprised when Bones directed his wrath onto him, knowing the level of patience his CMO had towards his antics.

Continuing to smile with amusement, Kirk pulled Bones over to the corner, away from the women.

"Status?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot. Throughout the afternoon, McCoy had kept the Captain informed on the woman's progress, and of the mysteries that surrounded the _Enterprise's_ new guests.

"Well, physically they're all perfectly fit," McCoy began. "Even that spitfire should be completely healed after two or three more runs through the regenerator. Her wounds are healing cleanly and she shouldn't have any ill effects or prominent scars once I'm done."

Kirk nodded as he listened. "What about her friends?"

"They're fine too. Perfectly healthy . . ." McCoy trailed off.

"But?" Jim prodded.

Running a hand through his hair, McCoy practically spat, gesturing toward the women, "Hell, Jim, physically they're fine. But there is something that they're hiding. I don't know what it is, but it's like pulling teeth trying to get a straight answer out of any of them. Damn Brits sure know how to answer my questions without telling me a damn thing, and that Spitfire is just antagonistic."

Jim just smirked. "Like you're not antagonistic, Bones?" Jim remarked good naturally.

"Hell, she makes me look like a perfectly docile southern Belle," McCoy responded derisively.

Glancing over at the group, Jim noticed them quietly laughing and he smiled.

"She doesn't seem that tough," Jim remarked, glancing over the slight woman in the biobed. Her brunette hair fanned around her head in a frizzy mess, and dirt was still smudged on her face and arms. But he could still remember the strength and power behind her amber gaze, and he could agree with his CMO that indeed there was something odd about the woman.

"Not that tough? You try to pry information from her and see how you do," Bones said bitterly. He hated mysteries and these women were the biggest ones he had encountered in quite a while. "And there is the fact that I have no information on any of them. No medical records, criminal records, dammit I can't even find a parking ticket."

At that remark, Jim cocked his head confused. "How is that possible?"

"That's the thing, Jim. I don't know. I don't know how the three of them got around the system. The minute a kid is born anywhere in the Federation, their DNA is automatically marked to begin their medical records. I've heard of one or two who haven't have any data entries when they showed up on the grid, but these are usually nomads from isolated starbases. To have three apparently normal females from Earth . . . I don't have the answers."

Slapping his friend on his shoulder encouragingly, Kirk reasoned, "We'll figure it out. It's been a while since we had a good mystery."

"Oh good. You're excited," the doctor mumbled as he followed behind Kirk, who headed off to speak with the women.

Smirking over his shoulder, Kirk replied, "of course I'm excited. This should be fun."

McCoy just rolled his eyes.

* * *

Sitting up as straight as she could, as if she were a queen overseeing her court, Charlie coolly regarded the return of the captain and the doctor. She needed to be calm and assertive to plead her case to the men who quite literally held her life in their hands. She swallowed slowly, her mouth going dry and her hands shaking with anxiousness.

The captain gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, winking at Philippa who giggled. He overheard her comment of being very 'fit' and he didn't mind engaging in harmless flirting.

"Ladies," he began as soon as he was standing in front of them. "I am Captain James T. Kirk, welcome aboard the _USS_ _Enterprise._"

The blonde and redhead nodded their heads in acquiescence, both giving him timid smiles. However, the brunette kept her face impassive as she spoke, "Thank you, Captain, for allowing us on your ship. And for saving us. I don't where we would be without you."

"I should be thanking you," he responded, and he was pleased to see surprise flicker across her gaze. "If you had not attacked those Klingons, my Away Team and I may not have been able to make it back to the ship alive."

Charlie was stunned to hear that admission. While she knew she was assisting them, she didn't believe that none of them would have made it off the surface. It was only about five or ten minutes after she attacked the first Klingon that they beamed aboard. However, she could see honest gratitude in the captain's bright blue eyes, and smirked as she cockily replied, "I'll battle Klingons anytime, Sir."

The captain chuckled as he said, "hopefully that won't be necessary. But I'm afraid I don't know your names?"

"Oh! Please forgive our rudeness." Kate, ever the perfectly mannered debutante, held her hand out to shake the Captain's. "I'm Kate Aldridge and this is Philippa Turner," she gestured to Philippa who shook his hand, giving him a blatantly flirting look. He gave her a half smile, his eyes crinkling in humor as he took the hint; not that he could miss it. He could hear Bones snort behind him, and he had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

Turning to the last person to answer, he urged, "and you are?"

She squirmed slightly under his scrutinizing gaze. "Charlotte Noland."

"Well Miss Noland, I'm in your debt." He again gave is one of his award winning smiles, a shiver of pleasure running through him when she finally replied with a small one of her own. "Now, I have a few questions for you."

Charlie nodded, finally happy to be free of the annoying small talk. "Of course, and we will be more than happy to answer, but first I must say that my friends and I need your help."

He blinked, a bit surprised by her blatant proclamation. "Oh?"

"Yes, see we, well, we are, ah. . ."she trailed off, biting her lip. It was a lot harder to tell them than she thought. She glanced over to her friends for encouragement, the fear in their eyes giving her the fortitude to continue.

"Yes?" Kirk was impressed at the restraint he was using. Normally he would use his command voice, and he would get the results he wanted. Patience was not one of his strong points, but something told him that he needed to tread easy with these women, at least at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie willed her nervousness away and snapped her eyes back to the Captain's, spilling out in a rush, "We need your help to get home. You see, we don't really know how we landed on that planet where you found us. The last time I checked, we were standing in a park in Bristol, England, I guess back on Earth. We're graduate students at the university there, and one minute we were talking in the park and the next this giant black hole appeared under us. We fell into it and woke up on that planet. We had been wandering around for hours before we came across you and your crew. . . And, well it was 2013 when we left . . ." she added as an afterthought.

Both the captain and the doctor were staring Charlie as if her head had just jumped off her neck, did a tap dance, and reattached itself. The captain opened his mouth, closed again and then muttered, "Bullshit."

Charlie's eyes widened at his exclamation. Before she could say anything, Kate jumped to her defense. "I assure you, she speaks the truth," she retorted. "We have no idea how we landed where we did."

"And we don't know how to get home," Philippa added, the women presenting a solid wall of defense for Charlie. Her love of her friends grew instantly, knowing they were protecting her just as she had for them.

"I think he means the part about us being from 2013 guys," Charlie added. She could see the realization dawn on their faces, both blushing.

"So wait, you're trying to tell me that two hundred years ago, you fell through a black hole that randomly appeared in England, and ended up on Nimbus III only to save me and my crew from Klingons?" Kirk asked, bewildered.

"It sounds crazy, I know, but yea. Basically," Charlie replied almost sheepishly.

After a moment, Kirk round on the doctor and barked, "I thought you said they were fine, Bones?"

"They are!" the doctor exclaimed, just as surprised by their admission.

"Well obviously they must have hit their heads a little too hard at some point—"

"Excuse me?!" Charlie objected loudly. The frustrated Captain turned his attention to Charlie, somewhat surprised by the authority he detected in her tone. "Listen here buddy, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but do not insult me and my friends like this. I know our story is farfetched, but it's the _truth_, and if you don't think you can help us, that's fine; take us to someone who can." Her dark eyes were smoldering with barely controlled rage and fear. This was not at all the way she planned to have this conversation go.

The Captain growled, pacing as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to understand the situation. "Bones?" he snapped, needed someone else's interpretation of their story.

"I don't know, Jim," McCoy shrugged. "It makes sense why I can't find their records. I didn't think I would have to expand the search to two hundred years ago."

The Captain continued to pace. After the Nero incident, and the involvement of Spock Prime in his life, he thought he was done with space-time anomalies, but apparently fate wanted to send one more. It was really starting to get annoying.

"Alright, for now let's say I believe you—"

"Thanks so much for your consideration," Charlie interrupted bitterly before she could help herself.

"Listen, it's not like your story is that believable," Kirk growled back. "But lucky for you, we've had some experiences with time-traveling individuals." He was starting to feel the beginning of a migraine. Charlie just continued to glare at him, her ire raised from his early offhanded insulting of her mental condition.

"Fine then. The sooner we figure out how to get home, the sooner we and our apparent mental injuries can be out of your hair," she seethed.

Kirk stopped his pacing and took a deep breath. Dammit, he was a Federation Captain, the youngest one yet to be given his own ship, and he managed to commandeer the flagship. He had already bested one being from another timeline, how hard could it be to send three insignificant women back two hundred years. Even if one of them, for all of her barbed tongued insults, was someone he grudgingly respected.

"Okay, I deserve that, I'm sorry," he acquiesced, glancing into the harsh eyes of the American. Her friends had been watching the exchange with growing alarm as it had escalated. They were scared, it plain as the noses on their faces, and he had gone and insulted them in asking for help. He could kick himself for his callousness.

Her gaze relented a little, but she still radiated irritation as she said, "I'm sorry too. I'm afraid I'm not very good at expressing things well, and I don't think I presented our case accurately."

He almost wanted to snort at that. She expressed her anger pretty clearly in his opinion. "Okay, here's the plan," he began, taking control of the situation before it spiraled out of control again. "I have some of the best and brightest under my command. I will call a meeting of my senior crew at say, 1200 hours tomorrow and we'll decide how best to go about sending you and companions home. Alright? I can't promise we'll send you back, but I can tell you we'll try."

Cautiously, the two Brits nodded, but Charlie regarded him skeptically, to see if he was mocking them. Deciding he was sincere, she agreed, although she was going to be more cautious in how she presented their predicament tomorrow.

"Good. Well then, I—"

"_Bridge to Captain Kirk,_" a female voice interrupted.

McCoy walked over and hit a button as Kirk replied, "Kirk here. What's going on Uhura?"

"_A_ _distress call has been picked by our sensors near Starbase 234._" Uhura replied.

"How far are we from the Starbase?" Kirk asked. Charlie heard the change in his voice and attitude, a hard line of command entering his eyes. She was surprised to feel the stirring of something inside her at that look, but she quickly attributed it to a side effect of the surgery.

"_About 10 minutes,_" someone else answered.

Nodding his head and heading toward the exit he spoke, "Plot a course Sulu, Warp Three. I'm coming up now."

After the voices died away, he turned back to regard the group. "Bones, I'll send Janice down to bring Miss Aldridge and Miss Turner to their rooms once you release them."

The doctor nodded as he walked over to Charlie to do another level of regeneration on her wounds. Right before he exited sickbay, Kirk turned back, watching the spirited warrior he found on Nimbus III gazing at his retreating back with dark, knowing eyes.

"She's going to be a handful," he mumbled to himself before heading to the lift.

* * *

"Status, Sulu?" Kirk barked the minute he walked onto the bridge. The headache he was beginning to develop in sickbay was steadily growing behind his right eye, causing him to wince slightly at the bright lights of the bridge.

"Thirty seconds to the location, Captain," his helmsmen answered.

Pinching the bridge of his nose to try to relieve the pain, he nodded and headed further into the bridge. Walking down the steps, he came to rest in his command chair, a deep sense of satisfaction coming over him. Even after eighteen months in command, it still could stir deep-seated feelings of contentment in him; this is where he belonged.

"Uhura, what's the status of the distress call?" Kirk asked, spinning around to address his communications officer.

"No change, Captain," the dark-skinned women replied, holding her hand to her ear as she listened to the continuing transmission. "The Federation freighter _The Inverness_ sent out the call about four hours ago. They appear to have lost warp capabilities."

"Can't they only travel at a max of warp two anyway?" the Captain asked, spinning to address his First Officer.

"That is correct, Captain," Spock agreed in his usual monotone. "However, to lose all capabilities of warp randomly, even for a freighter is unusual."

"Captain," Sulu said, gaining the attention of the senior officer. "Dropping out of warp in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ."

The _Enterprise_ dropped out of warp, several hundred metres from the languid space freighter. No lights were on, making it appear ghost like as it hung listlessly in space. Several portions of the ship appeared to have been blown away, pieces drifting off away from the broken hull.

Springing out of his chair, Kirk quickly barked, "Chekov, scan for life signs. Sulu, get us as close to the ship as possible. I want a detailed weapons scan on what caused that destruction, and for any ships in the area. Whoever did this may still be around."

"Keptin, there are no life signs," the young Russian navigator spoke, his deft fingers running over the console in front of him. "Systems appear to be offline, including life support."

"How many people were on that freighter?" Kirk snapped, his headache growing worse. _Damn, first a time-traveling she-devil and now this_, he thought.

"No more than ten," Spock announced, collecting the data from his own console. "These type of vessels run with only a limited personnel, logically opting for more cargo space than crew."

"No other wessels appear to be in the area, Keptin," Chekov added.

Jim nodded. "Uhura, send a message back to Starfleet. Detail the location and casualties. Any luck on the weapons ID, Sulu?"

"Negative, sir," Sulu responded. "They appear to be phaser blasts, but I can't get a lock on what type of phaser. But it appears the blast came from inside the ship."

"Inside? Fascinating," Spock said, coming up to stand next to the Captain who was viewing the screen.

"Captain, Starfleet has advised us to tow the freighter to Starbase 234," Uhura chimed in. "They're dispatching a team to handle the investigation and recovery."

"Okay, Chekov, lock on the freighter with the tractor beam. Try to catch as much of the debris as possible. We want to give the investigators as much as we can to work with. Set a course, Sulu."

"Aye, Sir," they responded.

"Spock, can I see you in my ready room?" Jim asked. Not waiting for an answer, he headed off, fully expecting the Vulcan to be following behind him.

Once he entered his spacious office located right outside the bridge, he heaved a great sigh, letting his shoulders fall as he tried to remove the tension from his frame. Since landing on Nimbus III, Kirk felt as if he hadn't had a chance to breathe. Between the conflict with the Klingons, worrying about Charlie and then learning about who she and her friends were, and now the mystery of the freighter, he hadn't had a time to actually sit and relax. Running a hand through his hair, he walked over to the food synthesizer, ordered a cup of coffee and then sat behind his desk as Spock took a seat across from him.

"You wanted to see me, Captain," his First Officer asked.

"Yes. It appears we now have two mysteries to deal with Spock," Kirk answered, taking a sip of the dark brew. It was by no means what one would find back on Earth, but caffeine was caffeine.

"I appear to be unfamiliar with this second mystery, Captain," Spoke said, his eyebrow upturned in confusion. While Spock could be very stoic and unemotional to the untrained eye, Jim was beginning to notice the subtle facial movements that gave away what Spock was thinking; at least sometimes.

"Jim, Spock," Kirk breathed in exasperation. "You can call me Jim. We've been in command for over a year now. It's fine."

The Vulcan nodded. "Jim," he said, waiting for the Captain to continue.

Kirk sighed again, trying to figure out how to tell his First Officer about the women in his sickbay. While Nero was the reason Kirk grew up without a father, Spock was now without a planet thanks to the time travelling Romulan. Because of this, Kirk was not sure how he would react to another temporal anomaly.

"It seems the guests we picked up on Nimbus III are more than they appear," Kirk explained, deciding to be forthright.

"I am afraid I do not follow, Jim."

"Trust me, I don't understand it either," Jim spoke cynically, rubbing his eye. He was very close to calling Bones for a pain reliever, even if it was a hypospray. "I had an interesting discussion with those women we picked up on the last away mission. They claim that a black hole sucked them out of 21st century England and dropped them on Nimbus III."

Spock just sat and gazed at Kirk for a moment. "Fascinating," he finally attested.

Kirk snorted, figuring that was what he was going to say. "More like frustrating. They appear to be sincere, but I don't know if I can quite believe it."

Spock nodded. "That is a logical assessment. Given our recent experiences, the only accessible way to time travel involved Red Matter, something that was destroyed along with the _Narada_. I do not see how it is logical to space jump without it."

"And the fact that Earth still exists means it couldn't have been Red Matter," Kirk added.

"Precisely."

Kirk ran a hand down his face, his earlier frustration heightening. "Then how did they do it?"

"I do not know, but I would like to speak with the women," Spock declared.

"I think that's a good idea," Jim agreed. "But I think we need the whole command crew for this. Can you schedule a meeting with the senior crew for 1200 tomorrow? Bones won't let Charlie out of sickbay until then and I want all of them at the meeting."

"The one who fought off the Klingons?" Kirk could almost see a smirk in the Vulcan's passive face.

"Yea, her," Kirk mumbled. "I think Bones's term as 'Spitfire' is a good nickname for her. Has a tongue like a spike."

Spock's eyebrow rose again. "I see," was all he said.

Kirk really did roll his eyes this time. "Just set up the meeting, Spock. Dismissed."

The Vulcan rose and turned to leave the ready room, but twisted around before the door hissed open. "I do not believe we will have the same outcome the last time someone from another time entered into our universe, Jim. The chances are less than 10.2 percent," Spock spoke, trying in his own was to be encouraging.

"I hope you're right, Commander," Jim said as he pulled out a PADD to catch up on the mountain of paperwork his Yeoman kept bringing to him. "Send Rand in if you see her."

"Of course," the Vulcan nodded his head and then headed back to the bridge.

Jim dropped this PADD on his desk, not really paying attention to the useless, bureaucratic paperwork.

"How the hell did you get here?" he said to himself as he thought about a girl with dark eyes.


	5. Chapter Five: No Rest for the Wicked

**Chapter Five: No Rest for the Wicked**

Charlie could not wait to get out of the damn sickbay. After several hours of being poked and prodded by various nursing staff, not to mention the regeneration cycles that she had to go through, she was more than a little annoyed. Once McCoy had learned of their origin, he conducted a more than thorough exam on each, treating the women as if they were a new species he knew nothing about. After several blood tests and full body scans, he deemed Kate and Philippa protected enough to leave the med bay, following the captain's yeoman to their new guest quarters on deck six.

Charlie was not so lucky. While she had to go through the same battery of tests, she was given a larger dose of vaccines and a vitamin pack once McCoy learned of the several, now treatable, hereditary diseases she had. She was about ready to attack him as she had the Klingons after the fourth hypospray when he was called away to handle an emergency in engineering. Just when she expected to be finally left alone, a Nurse Chapel came in and continued where the doctor had left off, albeit far more gently.

After the last regeneration cycle, she was finally left alone to sleep, but try as she might she could not turn off her brain. Between replaying the conversation with the Captain earlier in the day, and how to handle the meeting with the whole senior staff the next morning, she was more than a little awake. Getting up despite McCoy's orders, she paced up and down the quarantined room, thinking. She was honestly surprised that the Captain didn't believe her, although that was naïve the more she thought about it. Why would they believe her? They didn't know who she and her friends were, or how they ended up on a planet with a bunch of Klingons. Just because she knew they were originally from a television show, did not mean they would automatically believe every word that spilled from her mouth. This was reality, as strange as it seemed and if someone approached her with the same story, she would probably laugh in their face.

Rubbing her dry and tired eyes, Charlie sat back on the bed, but didn't lie down. No, she needed a plan, and needed one fast. If the crew of the _Enterprise_ could not (or worse would not) help her then it was up to her to get them home safe.

"I just don't bloody know how we got here," she growled to herself, her head in her hands. Her frustration grew every moment she thought of the event at the park to the point that if she didn't punch something soon she was going to lose it.

"I thought I told you to take it easy?" the doctor grumbled, startling Charlie enough to jump in surprise.

"Would you stop doing that!" she snapped, turning to glare at the man.

The doctor smirked as he gloated, "No."

Rolling her eyes, Charlie swung her legs back on the bed. "How'd you know I was up anyway? I would have thought you were in your quarters," she stated crossing her arms.

"Your heart monitor was beating so loud and fast you about woke the whole damn ship. And I had some work to do," he responded, walking over to the bed and adjusting some of the controls.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Charlie quipped with a smirk on her face.

McCoy chuckled as he observed the feisty time traveler. "Could say the same for you."

Charlie's smile slid from her face. "I have a few things on my mind," came her noncommittal reply as she shrugged, dropping her arms.

"Yea, I bet," McCoy sighed, rubbing his eyes. Yes, he was tired, but there were too many things to do in sickbay and he refused to leave the work to anyone else; his annoying patient one of them.

"How do I handle this?" Charlie quietly asked after a moment. Her eyes were downcast, plucking at the blanket, but she could feel an undercurrent as McCoy tensed. "How can I convince the crew to help us when I can't even convince the Captain? I mean you believe me, right?" she asked, looking up into the handsome doctor's face.

Charlie's dark orbs pleaded with the McCoy's, and he was irritated to feel a bit of sympathy for her. "Yea, kid. I believe you," he assured with a sigh. "Hell, I was finally able to find your records after I called in a couple favors. Born in 1989, huh?"

Charlie smirked, completely relieved that at least one person in that hunk of metal believed her. "Told you I was old."

"Practically older than dirt," McCoy teased as Charlie laughed.

"Something like that."

"Don't worry about the captain, Spitfire," McCoy said, a seriousness under his tone. "As smart as that kid is, his skull can be pretty thick sometimes. If I know him, he's probably still up right now looking for anything and everything to help you."

"Or to convince himself we're not lying," Charlie added cynically.

Not one to sugarcoat, McCoy said, "Yea probably. Listen, the last time a time travelling entity crossed paths with the _Enterprise,_ it didn't end well. He's a captain. There are over five hundred people on this ship, including you and your friends. It's a lot to look after."

Charlie nodded in understanding. She was selfish to forget there were other people on the ship. The crew and especially the captain could not drop everything to help three stranded women. That realization hardened Charlie more to the notion that it was up to her. She'd use the _Enterprise_ to help, but she would be the one to find a way home . . . somehow.

"Thanks, Doc," she smiled, finally feeling a calmness enter into her system. With the calmness came the exhaustion both emotionally and physically.

"Anytime, kid. Now get some sleep. Your body is still healing from your heroic adventures at suicide."

Charlie laughed as McCoy smirked and headed out of the room. Closing her eyes, she rolled over; her last thought one of a pair of sky blue eyes, and the power behind them.

* * *

As the turbolift brought her up to the bridge, Charlie nervously tugged down the small, black shirt she was wearing. Earlier that morning, Charlie was finally able to take a shower and clean herself up, washing the dried blood and dirt from her hair and skin. She observed the scars that were left over from her injuries, surprised to see only faint blemishes where jagged gashes once were. There was something to be said of 23rd century medicine.

Unfortunately, due to the nature of her wounds, the clothing she came to Nimbus III in were virtually destroyed and thrown out. Because of that, Yeoman Rand was able to procure Starfleet regulation black pants and a black shirt for her to wear until something else could be done. While the pants were comfortable enough, the shirt was a little short for her, and she could not stop tugging it down every couple of minutes. Her boots were the only article in her position to survive, even if they were a bit dirty.

Taking a deep breath, and feeling the surprising calm effect of having Doctor McCoy standing behind her, Charlie took a tentative step onto the bridge as the doors opened. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she got her first glimpse of an honest-to-god starship control center. Personnel wearing blue, gold, or red were wandering about, some talking to their comrades while others were at their stations working. There was controlled sense of chaos about the room, everyone seeming to know where to be and what to do at the right time. When one person stood up to leave, someone was right behind replacing them seamlessly. The bright white color of the walls worked well with the dark floor, and the see-through partitions that doubled as workstations were fascinating to Charlie. If she could, she would have stood there all day just observing, but the pressure on her back as McCoy led her to a room off the starboard side reminded her why she was on the bridge in the first place.

Swallowing against the rising sense of panic, Charlie took a deep breath as the doors to the observation room slid open, allowing her to enter. Already several individuals were seated around the long conference table that dominated the space. Two men in gold, one Asian and the other with curling blonde hair were speaking quietly to one another while another in red leaned over the table, obviously heavily engaged in whatever they saying. Another man in blue with black hair and pointed ears was having a discussion with a stunningly attractive dark-skinned woman. Charlie was shocked to see the adoration in the woman's eyes as she gazed the Vulcan, and Charlie swore she could sense the devotion from where she stood.

Smiling, she finally noticed Philippa and Kate were seated on the other end of the table from the others, both looking as if they, too, had showered and removed the stickiness of their journey. Although, Charlie was jealous to note that they seemed to have retained their clothing from home. They both waved as soon as she entered and she quickly headed over to them, her cheeks reddening as she could feel the others' curious eyes on her. Subconsciously she tugged again on the shirt, silently cursing the scrap of material. Taking a seat between them, Charlie was relieved to note that Doctor McCoy sat nearer to the girls than the others, silently conveying his support. After their discussion the night before, Charlie was feeling far warmer towards the surly doctor.

Only moments after Charlie was seated, the Captain entered, his yeoman trailing behind with a stack of PADDs in her arms. Everyone rose to their feet and Kirk impatiently waved them back to their seats. Both Philippa and Kate sent her questioning expressions as each member was handed a PADD by the yeoman, but Charlie merely shrugged. It was not as if she knew what was going on.

"Good afternoon, Team," the Captain began, taking a seat at the head of the table and directly across from Charlie. "You're probably wondering why I've called you here, and why I've included our guests from Nimbus III." He gestured to Charlie and her friends. Everyone turned to regard them, curiosity and interest prevalent in their expressions. Charlie subtly lifted her chin, gazing back at the group impassively. At least she hoped it was impassive.

"It appears they are in need of assistance, and have asked us for our support in returning them home." The team continued to stare between their captain and the women, more confused than ever. It should have been simple to drop them off at Starbase 234, and let them catch the next ship bound for Earth. With the _Enterprise_ on its five-year mission, they would not be returning to the Sol system unless an emergency occurred.

"I don't understand, Sir," Uhura finally spoke up. "Can't they just catch the next ship bound toward Earth?"

Kirk smirked, giving a wink towards Charlie who scowled. "They would if they were returning to 23rd century Earth."

"I still don't follow," Sulu voiced after a moment, the others except for Spock and McCoy nodding in agreement.

"Well, let's have them explain it. Ladies?"

And just like that the spotlight was now fully on Charlie, Kate and Philippa. Charlie regarded the curious gazes with apprehension, afraid for the same outcome as the day before. Swallowing her anxiety, Charlie could feel her friends lean closer to her, as if they were using her as a shield with all the attention on them. Drawing strength from the needs of her friends, she quickly picked up the gauntlet the captain had thrown down.

"My friends I need your assistance returning to _21__st_ century Earth, specifically 2013," she emphasized noticing the shocked faces of those around her. "That is where we are originally from, and that is where we need to return to." _There's that wasn't so hard_, Charlie thought. However, the doubt began to creep back as she watched the dumbfounded expressions on everyone's faces.

The man in red was the first to say something. Through a thick, Scottish brogue he groaned, "Ach! Not another one."

Even with the seriousness of her situation, Charlie couldn't stop the small snort that escaped, his statement so uncharacteristic of what she would have expected. Being wound so tight, she could almost feel the giddiness rise to the surface but quickly squashed it down. Now was not the time to lose her composure and prove to the crew that she was insane.

"How is this possible?" Uhura asked, turning her attention not to the captain, but to the man sitting to his left.

"However improbable the situation appears," the Vulcan observed. "It is not impossible given our current timeline. Already we have experienced the temporal anomalies that brought Nero to our universe. In theory, the same event could happen at different intervals of time, bringing others to and from our continuum."

"Well how do we know they are really what they say?" Sulu asked, regarding the women skeptically. "They were found on a planet in the Neutral Zone that was only recently discovered. How do we know they are not Romulan or Klingon spies?"

Charlie bristled at the accusations. A spy? She almost lost her life battling those Klingons to save his captain. _If anything he should be grateful_, she thought sullenly.

"Because I was able to pull up their records," McCoy interjected, coming to their defense.

"Bones?" the captain finally voiced. He did not know that his CMO was able to find the women in the database. For one, he didn't think they went back that far, but another part of him still didn't fully believe them.

McCoy sighed, giving the women a quick look before getting up and heading to the interactive board that was behind the captain's chair. With a few deft swipes, Charlie, Kate and Philippa's pictures were highlighted as well as their records, clearly indicating their birth years. Charlie had to physically restrain the snort that wanted to emerge. Of all the pictures to find, McCoy had to locate their latest profile pictures from 'ancient' Facebook. While Charlie's was only of her standing in her fencing gear, and Kate was on her father's yacht, poor Philippa's was one of their crazy nights at the club. It was a good picture, but a little, well, provocative. Sneaking a glance to her left, Philippa's visage was bright red and her eyes were bugging out of her head.

"Sorry, ah, these were the only images I could locate quickly," McCoy added after a moment, once he realized Philippa's horrified reaction.

"Where'd you get these, Bones?" Kirk asked, trying deftly to not laugh.

"I had a buddy at archives do a bit of a . . . shall we say off-the-record look for me," McCoy explained with a shrug. "But as you can clearly note their birth dates," he continued, trying to ignore the livid glare from Philippa. "And the list of dates in their records of various medical procedures, they are who they say they are."

"But could not these records be counterfeit, Doctor?" Spock asked logically.

"If they were, they used a super virus that infiltrated the highest levels of Starfleet security," McCoy answered gruffly. "All records from the last three hundred or so years are kept in a protected vault for the very reason of identity theft. After a crisis fifty years ago when an entire substation was hacked and dead relatives of Starfleet officers began collecting significant benefits, the higher ups decided to lockdown all archival information. They can now only be accessed with special permission from the Admiralty."

"Or if you have a buddy on the inside," Jim added with a smirk.

"Or if you have a buddy on the inside," McCoy agreed.

Uhura quickly turned and regarded the three women with more sympathy and a lot less skepticism. "How did you end up on Nimbus III then?"

The three women looked between themselves before Kate answered, "We're not sure. We were swept in a swirling black mass and woke up on that planet."

"I just remember swirling colors inside the thing, and then we fell through a . . . tear, I guess, in whatever we were in," Charlie added.

"Really?" Kate asked, surprised. "I don't remember any colors, but I remember a lot of loud sounds. Car horns, music, water rushing; a lot of different things and the further we went, the louder it got."

Charlie blinked blankly at her friend. She was not aware that Kate hadn't seen anything, but instead heard something.

"I didn't experience that at all," Philippa interjected. Both women turned towards her. "I could just _feel_ us falling, or flying, or whatever it was we were doing. And the smell; it smelled really strange, almost like flowers but sulfur too. It was bizarre."

Charlie was surprised by their admissions. She thought they had seen the same things she had. She wondered what it meant that each experienced their travel differently.

"Fascinating," Spock said after a moment of silence.

"What is, Spock?" Kirk asked. Like Charlie, he was also surprised to learn that each woman had experienced their travel differently, and by the shocked looks on each of their faces, they were not aware of the others.

"I will have to research the phenomenon more," Spock ascertained. "But I have heard of a theory that those who are able to time travel use all of their senses, including an added sixth sense, in order to bend the space-time continuum and these sense act as a dynamic control. However, I must stress this is merely a theory with no conclusive way to experiment, but many physicists back at the Academy were speaking of it. It is possible to pinpoint their exact method of travel with that theory."

Charlie perked up as the Vulcan was speaking. "So you have a way home?" she asked breathless. It was almost tangible the hope that sprang from his statement.

"I did not say that," the Vulcan responded firmly. "The probability of the theory allowing for a definitive experiment is only 4.2 percent with an even smaller rate of success."

Charlie deflated, but noticing the stricken look on her friends faces, she quickly added, "A small rate of success is better than none at all. We have to try if we are to get home." Charlie noticed the captain's eyes on her, and against her better judgment she felt herself blush. He had a small smile on his face, but not one of mocking or scorn like she had seen before. He almost looked pleased that she refused to give up.

"I do not think—"

"Spock," Kirk quickly interrupted.

"Yes, Captain?" If he was annoyed at being interrupted, the Vulcan did not show it.

"What is the chance that these girls ended up where they did?"

"I do not understand."

"What is the 'statistical probability' that three women from 21st century Earth could land on a planet that we just so happened to be near?"

"2.8 percent," the Vulcan conveyed, his eyebrow raised.

"So the fact that it was an even smaller chance for them to end up where they did means they have a better probability to get back?" The captain winked at Charlie, and she could feel a sense of gratitude towards him. Even if he did piss her off earlier, he was now fighting for them, and she would appreciate all the allies she could get.

"Sir, while it is a higher probability, it is still far too low to be of consideration."

"But it's still a higher chance?" Kirk pushed.

The Vulcan sighed. While Jim had learned much about the Vulcan in the eighteen months he has had in command of the ship, so too did Spock learn about Jim. The biggest aspect of Jim Kirk, Spock realized was his belief that there are no 'no-win' scenarios. If there was a possibility, no matter how small, then it was going to happen.

"Yes. There is a chance," Spock reluctantly agreed. "However, I do not believe it wise to raise the hopes of these women."

Charlie could feel as slowly the eyes of the command crew came to rest on her and her friends, all silently asking the same question. Looking into the desperate faces of the two closest people on that starship, Charlie took a deep breath before she regarded the expectant crew. "I don't care how small the chance is. If there's a way to get home, we'll take it."

Kirk smiled broadly, giving Charlie a slight nod of encouragement. If only she had felt encouraged. In fact, she felt the opposite, but with the relieved and excited expressions from Kate and Philippa, she would keep her doubts to herself.

"Right then," Kirk announced loudly. "Spock, I'm assigning you the task of researching how to get these lovely ladies back to where they need to be."

Spock nodded, although Charlie was wondering if he felt it was an errant task for him to do, and she felt slightly guilty that their problem had to rest on his shoulders.

"How long until we arrive at Starbase 234, Mister Sulu?" Kirk questioned, turning to his helmsman now that the sticky task of the three women were over.

"About an hour, Sir," Sulu answered. "Towing the freighter is taking longer than we expected."

"Alright. Uhura, comm. the Starbase and give them our ETA. Chekov, ready the report on the preliminary scan of the weapons damage. Scotty, see if you can boost power to the tractor beam. I want to see if we can't get a bit more speed out her."

With a round of 'ayes,' the group stood up to move on to their respected tasks. Kate and Philippa moved to follow, but noticed Charlie was still sitting in her chair lost in thought.

"Charlie?" Kate voiced hesitantly.

Glancing up at her friends, Charlie realized that they were being left behind.

"Oh, sorry guys," she said, shaking her head of her thoughts as she stood, following them out of the room slowly. The Captain was waiting by the door as the girls passed. Charlie stopped in front of him, and glancing up into his sky blue eyes, she said a simple thank you. With a nod and a smile, Charlie understood the silent words he was passing to her. Quickly she caught up to her friends as they entered the turbolift with Doctor McCoy. As the doors closed, she observed the captain as he took his seat in the command chair. A shiver ran down her spine, but she attributed it only to the chill of the ship. There was no reason to feel anything for the man but gratitude. That was it.


	6. Chapter Six: Never Tell Me the Odds

**Chapter Six: Never Tell Me the Odds**

The women said good-bye to Doctor McCoy as they stepped off on deck six while he continued down to sickbay the floor below. Charlie gazed around the halls of the ship, slightly in awe of the bustle going on around her. While she had already acknowledged that she was on the _Enterprise_, it was a whole other can of worms to see it in working motion.

Kate and Philippa began walking down the hall, oblivious to Charlie's amazement, and with a start, the brunette hurried to catch up with her friends. She could not stop her head from spinning around as they walked, watching as people moved back and forth. The walls were brilliantly white, with dark floors similar to the bridge. Every few feet a see-through board stood at attention, and various personnel occupied several of them. After a couple turns, the trio entered a less crowded hallway and after walking around a semi-circle, came to rest in front of a unobtrusive door.

"Where are we?" Charlie asked.

"This is the quarters we were assigned after we left sickbay yesterday," Kate said as she waved her hand over a side panel.

With a soft hiss, the door opened to allow the three women to enter. Inside, the room could best be described as crisp and clean, similar to a hotel room done in greys, blacks and blues. A plush light grey couch, black coffee table, and two white chairs occupied the living area, while a bar and mini kitchenette stood off to the side. Little glass vases filled with variety of flowers occupied various shelves and surfaces, the lights of the room playing off their crystalline colors. Through a door to the right and down a hallway stood two rooms, each with two single beds while a full bathroom done in blue and white stood between the two.

Back in the main room, Charlie could feel a sense of anxiousness steal over her. Now that there was a plan, an idea to follow, she wanted to get to work as soon as possible. At university, she was never one to sit idly by. She always had a meeting to go to, a project to work on, or a practice to attend. Sitting still just did not fit into her profile.

Quickly concluding that her twitching and restlessness would probably annoy her two friends, Charlie stood up from the couch and said, "I'm going to go exploring guys. Don't wait up!" Without a 'by-your-leave' she was out the door, heading to the turbolift.

At least she thought she was heading to the turbolift. Within about five minutes, Charlie had already become lost. The hustle and bustle of the crew kept Charlie moving without the ability to check for landmarks or other identifying ways to learn her location. Huffing in annoyance and taking another turn that looked just the same an all the others, Charlie about gave a whoop of joy when she saw the doors to a turbolift open. Quickly shuffling in, she directed the turbolift to a random deck below, figuring she would start there.

For the next few hours, Charlie wandered the decks of the starship. She paid attention never to enter anywhere that said 'restricted' or where a crewmember directly pointed her away. She may be stubborn, but she knew when orders needed to be obeyed. Not all of her exploration was to personnel only areas. She found recreation rooms on levels twenty and twenty-one, each with a small gym, sports center and to her surprise a place to play video games. She found the library on deck seventeen, and more recreation and gyms on several other decks. There were observational decks on twelve, sixteen, and nineteen, but they were small and more like quiet rooms than anything else.

On deck ten, there was a whole section dedicated to crew and guest relaxation called Ten Forward. Decked out in the same colors of the bridge and much of the rest of the ship, there were communal areas of couches and chairs grouped together around the outside of the room, while black tables and chairs occupied the center. Some of the tables held games, and others were empty. While Charlie would have loved to stay, the curious gazes of the crew she kept receiving caused her to shuffle her through quickly. She was not in the mood to be gawked at.

Skipping deck six where her room was (and where she wandered the first hour into her excursion), she continued up to the next deck. This one was much quieter than any of the others, and she noticed the officer's quarters were located on this deck. Although she knew she should probably head back to her room, and off the deck, her curiosity would not let her return.

As she continued down the hall, she passed close to a set of double doors on the starboard side of the ship. At her close proximity, the door hissed opened. Startled, she jumped back, but entered hesitantly as the doors stayed open. Once she was inside the room, the door shut soundlessly, leaving Charlie in the semi dark. The room was decorated in a rich crimson; both the walls and the carpet the same color. To the left side a black onyx bar stood, blue lights twinkling through the back counter. Clear glass shelves held different tumblers and bottles above the counter while black leather stools occupied the front. An oak railing stood strong in front of Charlie, sloping downwards on each side as two ramps led down the lower floor where black couches and chairs stood in similar groupings to Ten Forward.

However, the one aspect of the room that transfixed Charlie the moment the doors closed was the giant window looking out into space. Fifteen feet wide and standing from floor to ceiling, the viewport looked out upon a blue and green planet while a large space station orbited around. Lightly jogging down the ramp, Charlie came to stand in front of the window, a blue line of light riming the viewport in-between the glass and the wall. Reaching her hand up to touch the glass, Charlie stopped before her fingers made contact, a warning flaring in her head that what looked like glass may in fact be a barrier of some kind. If she thought about it, she could almost feel the electric hum of the window, similar to the feel of static electricity. Curling her fingers back as she pulled her hand away from the window, Charlie jumped when a voice said,

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

With a gasp, Charlie spun to look behind, surprised to see the captain standing on the upper level, leaning against the railing. He had a genuine smile on his face as he regarded the woman below.

"Captain, you scared the shit out of me," she exclaimed, a small bite to her words. "What are you doing here?"

Kirk pushed himself off the railing, turning to stroll down the ramp towards Charlie. "Can't a captain come to his private observatory to view the stars?"

Charlie's eyes widened at the implication in his words. Glancing around the room and her cheeks reddening in embarrassment, she stumbled, "This is your . . .? Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know this was a private room." As Kirk came to stand next to her, she backed away saying, "I'll just leave you to. . ."

Quickly, Kirk reached to grab her arm as Charlie turned away to leave. Laughing slightly he said, "Hey, it's okay, you can stay."

"Are you sure? I really don't want to bother you if . . ."

"Look, it's fine," Kirk interrupted dropping his hand. "This is one of the best views from the ship, and technically this room is for entertaining the guests of the captain. Since you're on the _Enterprise_ as a guest, it's open to you."

Noticing the sincerity in his eyes, Charlie nodded, cautiously returning to her previous position as he moved to stand next to her. Kirk turned to watch the scene outside the view port, always impressed by the wonders space offered.

After a few moments, Charlie smiled. "It really is beautiful. Where are we?" she asked, gesturing to the planet laid out before them.

"We're at Starbase 234 in the Beta Quadrant," he answered. "The _Enterprise_ is scheduled to drop off the freighter we've been towing. We'll only be here a few hours and then we'll head back out and see if we can find you a way home."

Charlie nodded and once again examined the scene before her. After a few moments of silence, Charlie hesitantly muttered, "I want to say thank you, again." She bit her lip, slightly annoyed at her random feeling of shyness. "For everything," she clarified as the captain turned to gaze at her.

With a shrug, Kirk replied, "You saved my team. It's the least I can do."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I no more saved your team than my own friends. The act was not entirely selfless and it's not like I made it out unscathed." Subconsciously she rubbed the area where the dagger had been, still identifying the phantom feeling of steel as it pierced her flesh.

Kirk continued to observe the woman with mild curiosity. She wasn't as brazen as she had been the day before, but she also was given time to process the events of the last forty-eight hours. Jim reasoned that her initial reactions were the side effects of the stress and trauma of her ordeal. Now that she had time to understand what was going on, she appeared more agreeable and calm. She was practically passive during the meeting with his command team earlier in the day.

Jim was also amazed by her blatant disregard toward his gratitude. He was still coming to terms to being the "Savior of Earth" and the celebrity status that came with it. Everywhere he went, men and women fawned over him, wanting to get closer, to touch to him, to just breathe that same damn air as him. At first, he did the whole parade around the Federation as the Golden Captain during the _Enterprise's_ repairs, enjoying all the attention and extolling, but rapidly it became clichéd. Everything was too bright, too theatrical, and too fake. Soon he couldn't wait to get back to his ship, if just to avoid all the attention and publicity. On the _Enterprise_ he was regarded as the Captain and a friend, nothing more and it was refreshing after all the media attention. Although no one, not even his crew had just disregarded him so easily. It was as if she had no idea who he was.

With a sudden realization, Kirk stared down at Charlie with a new sense of wonder for the woman. She really didn't know who he was. Here was someone who knew nothing of the Nero incident. She didn't know him as the Golden Captain, or the Savior of Earth, merely the man who had saved her and her friends' lives. It was amazing to meet someone with no preconceived notions of who he was or what he had done. As she gazed up at him with her amber colored stare, there was no predatory gleam or rapid interest; just base curiosity and reverence as _her_ savior, not Earth's.

"You okay there?" Charlie asked as Kirk's blue eyes unfocused for a moment, waving her hand in front of his face.

Shaking his head as her voice brought him out of his thoughts, she noted his stare held a different emotion than when he first entered the observation room.

"Huh? Yea, sorry. I didn't mean to zone out on you like that." Kirk had the decency to feel slightly embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Charlie smirked and shrugged, turning to regard the view. "It's fine, Captain. Happens to the best of us."

"You can call me Jim," Kirk remarked, dropping his hand. "You're a civilian; you don't have to address me by rank when I'm not on duty."

Charlie was annoyed to find she felt a slight amount of pleasure that he asked her to call him something other than 'Captain' and 'Sir.' Trying to pushing those feelings aside, she argued, "Is that appropriate? I don't want to sound too informal, especially in front of your crew."

"Now you're sounding like the Vulcan," Kirk joked, rolling his eyes. "Trust me, it's fine. You can call me Jim if you don't mind me calling you Charlotte."

"Only my mother calls me Charlotte. You can call me Charlie," she said nonchalant, trying vainly to ignore the blush staining her cheeks. She never usually reacted like this and it was beginning to piss her off. Damn it, she was a twenty-three year old woman, not some simple teenager who swooned when a pretty smile was directed at her. She was a master's student at a prestigious university; she needed to grow the hell up.

"I'm not going to lie, Captain—"

"Jim."

"Sorry—Jim— I'm not sure I'll get use to calling you that. My family is military, so I'm more use to addressing ranks than names."

"Your family is in the military?"

"Yes," Charlie answered proudly. "My dad's a Colonel and my mom's a Major in the Air Force, and my little sister just finished her first year at the Academy. My brother about started a family feud when he joined the Army, but he flies helicopters, so Dad was satisfied. At least he was flying."

"Interesting, so you're what they called a 'military brat'?"

"I haven't been called that in years," she shrugged with a smile. "But yea, I guess so, although I was lucky. My family and I didn't move around as much because Dad was a professor at the Academy."

"So why didn't you join? It sounds like everyone in your family has a thing for the military life," Kirk asked, crossing his arms as he observed the woman next to him. Each piece of information he learned about her only doubled the questions he wanted to ask. This was someone from the past, someone who had seen and done things he read about in history class — when he decided to pay attention. To borrow Spock's term, she was . . . fascinating.

She sat in silence for a moment, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "It wasn't for me. I'll let them be the heroes."

"Not one for glory then?" Jim remarked casually.

Charlie merely raised her eyebrow at him cynically. "I don't go seeking it, no," she answered a bit coolly, while Jim grinned.

"So battling those Klingons—"

"Was a means to an end," she interrupted. "Listen, it's not like I had any other choice. I have a feeling you would have done the same, am I right?"

Her stare was poignant, as if she knew something he did not and Jim was surprised to feel himself shuffle under her intense focus.

"So how are your friends? Kate and – Philippa right? I'm surprised you are not with them," Jim asked, trying to move away from the uncomfortable topic. He did not want her to know about his past; at least not yet. She would probably find out through the grapevine if she stayed on the _Enterprise_ for an extended length of time, but he just wanted her to have no preconceived notions about him. All he wanted to be was "Jim" to her and it was a frightening feeling for him to experience.

As he asked, Charlie's smile slowly dropped away, and Jim found himself disappointed by it. Turning to regard Jim, she politely responded, "They are safe here on this ship. I don't need to be around them 24/7; I'll probably just piss them off if I hover. Besides, I trust you won't let anything happen to them." Her blind faith stirred something inside Kirk that he was surprised to admit. He knew how protective she was of her friends; if McCoy hadn't told him, her response on Nimbus III was a clear indication, so for her to allow him to protect her friends spoke far louder than anything else she could say.

"As to how they are," she continued, ignorant of the thoughts running through the captain's head. "They're, well, they are…" she trailed off, biting her lip again in agitation. To Kirk's surprise, she turned her back on him as if to walk away, running a hand through her wavy brown locks as she debated internally with herself. Charlie was unsure whether to inform the captain of the fear each one of them had that they would never return home, placing a large amount of responsibility on the young captain's shoulders. With a huff, she appeared to come to a conclusion in her mind as she glanced in his direction, placing her hands on her hips.

"To be honesty they're scared. I'd even go so far as to say they're terrified. We have been pulled from everything we've ever known, and dropped not only to a strange place, but a strange _time_; a strange dimension. We are completely out of our element here."

"You know my team and I will help you in any way we can," Jim argued.

"Will it be enough? I mean, think about it. We have no idea how or why we were brought here, and no clear indication of what to do. I mean, sure I've always dreamed of going into space, but not like this. At least in my time I'd know how to get home."

She stood stiff and strong, her potent gaze making it difficult for Jim to look away. Charlie was resilient, but underneath her tough exterior, he could see she was barely holding it together, and he had a feeling the only thing preventing her from panicking was located in the floor below. Right then, Jim vowed he would do anything and everything he could to help the woman in front of him.

"So you've dreamed of going to space?" Kirk joked, trying to ease the tension he observed in Charlie's frame.

With a humorless laugh, Charlie glanced outside the window again. "Yea, I have."

"What stopped you?" While he was trying to direct Charlie away from her distressing thoughts, he was quite curious to understand what life could be like without the possibility of easily getting into space. After all, he lived in a universe where it was as simple as flying a plane.

On the other side, Charlie was interested as to why Kirk seemed to be so attentive towards her. They had had a long conversation so far, and while she was enjoying it, it appeared to her he was as well. She rationed that he was just trying to get to know her and maybe verify completely in his mind that she was from where she said she was. She still was not convinced he was 100% on board with her story.

"I can't handle the G-forces it takes to get up into space," she shrugged, crossing her arms. "I can't even handle a rollercoaster. The fossil fuels we use as rocket fuel are not as smooth as your transporters for space travel."

Kirk's head cocked to the side as he regarded the women before her, looking as if he had never seen anyone like her before.

"You really are from the 21st century. Aren't you?"

She smirked at his realization. "Yea, yea I didn't lie about that."

"Sorry, it's just hard to fully grasp that you're from two hundred years ago."

"Oh trust me, the feeling is mutual. God, I feel like this is just one big screwed up dream," she bit off after a moment, flopping down on to one of the chairs.

"I think we can rule this out as a dream," Kirk pointed out, coming to sit next to her.

With a bitter chuckle, Charlie responded, "Yea. That dagger was pretty good pinch in my opinion."

Kirk smiled, "I notice you're not one to do anything subtly."

"Ahh no, not really. I tend to be a bit ostentatious," Charlie agreed with a smile.

"Really? I had no idea," Kirk teased.

Blushing in embarrassment, Charlie, regarded the captain sheepishly, "Yea, I'm sorry about my outburst yesterday. That was inappropriate of me to yell at you as I did. I may be a civilian, but that doesn't give me the right to speak to you in that way. My dad would beat my ass if he heard I addressed a captain like that."

"It's alright, I deserved it," Kirk shrugged. "I have moments myself of being a bit . . . impulsive. And the truth is, the last time we encountered someone from another time, it went a bit differently."

"So you've been able to do this before?" Charlie asked, her hope increasing. "Doctor McCoy told me something about it, but he didn't go into a lot of detail."

"No, not in the way you're thinking," Kirk quickly responded, heading off her thinking. "We encountered someone who came from the future, and while we learned of a time travel method it was destroyed in a related incident. There was no way from them to return home."

Kirk was disappointed as the flare of passion slowly left the woman's eyes. "Oh, so you couldn't get them back."

"Not them no. But you're case is different. It's likely that future travel is impossible, but going into the past is easier. I have my best officers on it; we'll find a way."

Charlie smirked skeptically. "I hope for my friends' sake you are right. I don't know if they'll be able to handle the disappointment."

"They won't, or you won't?" Kirk argued.

Charlie regarded his last statement coolly, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know what you mean."

Kirk stared at Charlie acrimoniously, "I think you're smarter than that. You know what I mean."

Charlie was startled by his blatant statement. "No, I don't. Look, this is about my friends and getting home. Not me," she glared as she stood up and headed toward the exit. She knew the minute she noticed the captain she should have beat a tactical retreat. It was as her father had always said: _when you know you are out-gunned, out maneuver the hell outta them and get out of dodge._

"Hey, Charlie, wait!" Kirk yelled catching up to the brash woman. So much for calm and passive. As she neared the doors, Kirk reached out, grabbed her arm, and spun her around. "Hey, stop. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to upset you or anything."

Charlie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I'm not upset." At his raised eyebrow, and skeptical look, she knew he did not believe her. "Okay, okay, so I am," she huffed. "Look, I have to be strong for my friends. They're terrified and worried we will never get home, and I need to keep up their hope that we can. I don't think I can do that if my own feelings are being questioned. I am their only point of support. You're a captain. Surely you understand?"

"That's ridiculous," Kirk challenged. "You want to help them; be the mother hen that's fine, but you have to take care of yourself too."

"I'll take care of myself when we get home. Good evening, Captain." Before he could utter another word, she was through the door and walking hastily down the hallway.


	7. Chapter Seven: Afraid

**Chapter Seven: You Can Do Anything if You're Not Afraid**

Jim was about ready to follow Charlie when Uhura's voice echoed through the observation room. "_Bridge to Captain Kirk._"

With a sigh, he stepped back and answered, "Yea, Lieutenant. What's up?"

"_Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but we're receiving another distress signal. The USS Albion is under attack approximately 60 light-years from our position." _

"Are there any other ships in the vicinity, Lieutenant?"

"_The USS Endurance is close by, but they are another ten light-years past us."_

Kirk sighed, running a hand through his air. "Alright, have we released the freighter and uploaded all our reports to the station?"

"_Aye, Keptin,"_ Chekov's voiced responded in the background.

"Good. Detach from the base and lay in a course to intercept. I'll be right up. Kirk out."

Jim stepped out in the deserted hallway, heading down toward the turbolift. He honestly had not meant to run into Charlie. All he had wanted to do when his shift ended was grab a quick bite in the mess, maybe a drink with Bones, and then research anything and everything he could on his three new responsibilities. Instead, he found himself spending the last hour getting to know one extremely fascinating creature who, above everything else, did not seem interested in him in the slightest. He didn't want to sound egotistical, but it was very odd. Her friends had no problem flirting with him – especially Philippa, but all Charlie seemed to care about was getting her friends home. He had never met someone with such determination before. Well, except for him that is.

As the doors to lift opened, Kirk quickly emptied all of his extraneous thoughts from his head, his attention moving to the next problem. He swiftly moved to his command chair on the bridge, happy to see both Spock and Sulu at their appropriate stations. Like him, they were off at the end of alpha shift, but Uhura must have brought them both back. Hmmm, that could not be good.

"Sixty seconds to intercept, Captain," Sulu updated once the Captain was in his chair.

"Shields up. Red Alert. Uhura, inform Dr. McCoy to prepare for possible casualties," Kirk ordered as the red lights and loud klaxons began blaring throughout the ship. "Everyone to battle stations."

"Already done, Sir," Uhura responded back. "Dr. McCoy is reporting sickbay is prepped and ready."

"Ten seconds," Sulu announced as the view screen displayed cosmic waves of blue. "Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one." The ship slowed as it dropped out of warp next to a heavily damaged Federation science vessel. Like the freighter, all the lights were off as it hung listless in space.

"Chekov, scan for any ships in the area," Kirk barked the moment the damaged ship entered the screen. "Uhura, hail the ship. See if anyone onboard can answer a comm."

"No response, Captain," Uhura quickly remarked, already hailing the injured vessel when they were out of warp.

"There are no signs of life either, Captain," Spock said in his normal dispassionate tone. "All systems appear offline, including life support."

"No ships in ze area, Keptin," Chekov announced as his hands deftly flew across his console. "Only an old ionized trail."

"Dammit," Jim swore. "Keep scanning, Ensign. They can't have gotten far."

"Aye, sir."

"Captain, the weapons signature on the vessel appears to remarkably correlate with the freighter," Spock stated. "My scans indicate massive internal damage, much of it centered near the engineering section. Specifically near the life support systems."

"Are you telling me someone planted a bomb in engineering to take out life support?" Kirk suggested skeptically.

"Not a bomb, but I would agree in your latter assessment. The scans clearly indicate an intentional internal blast."

"Well, how the hell did someone get in there to do that?" Kirk snapped. "Life support is in the center of the ship!"

"I do not know, Captain," Spock answered.

"Still no ships, Sir," Chekov repeated quickly. "And Commander Spock is right. My scans indicate the wessel's damage is in ze engineering section, as well as ze Bridge."

"Mr. Chekov is correct, Sir," Spock agreed. "There is indication of a small blast on the Bridge in correlation to engineering."

"Shit," Kirk swore again, staring intently at the ship. Someone or something hit the ship in two of its most vital regions. With both engineering and the bridge out of commission, the rest of the crew did not have much of a chance if they didn't get to the escape shuttles.

"How many on board?"

"289, Sir," Spock answered.

"Captain, the _Endurance_ is hailing us," Uhura interjected.

With a nod to his communications officer, Kirk said, "On screen."

Suddenly, instead of the damaged ship, an older man in command gold with greying brown hair and green eyes stared back at the _Enterprise_ crew.

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_," Jim pronounced.

"Hello Captain, I am Captain Harris of the _USS Endurance._ How can we be of assistance?"

"I'm afraid we're a bit late to show, Captain," Kirk answered bitterly. "There are no life signs onboard the _Albion_, and all systems are down. We've scanned for ships in the area, but other than our two, there appears to be no one else."

Captain Harris's nodded, a firmness hardening his features before he responded. "What is the damage? Have you reported the loss to Starfleet?"

"Two large, internal blasts on the Bridge and engineering appear to have crippled the ship. We were just sending our reports when you arrived." Kirk quickly glanced to Uhura who, having already forwarded the necessary information, was receiving a communication back from headquarters.

"Starfleet is ordering the _Endurance_ to tow the vessel to Starbase 84. They're dispatching another investigative team. They've asked us to stay and see what we can find out. The ship that attacked may be in the area still."

"We're receiving our order now," Harris supplied. "If you don't have any other issues, Captain Kirk, we'd like to beam aboard the casualties, and tow the craft back to base."

With a nod from his command team that they had the information they needed, Kirk released the wreckage into the _Endurance's_ capable hands. As they began to tow the ship away, Jim ordered an end to the Red Alert, beginning an investigation into _who_ had attacked the _Albion._ However, after several hours, and numerous calculations, re-calculations, adjustments to the sensor array, and other methods of detection, the crew knew about as much as they did when they first arrived. Frustrated, Jim dismissed his team, all of them looking haggard and as exasperated as he did. As he sent off his report to Starfleet, and headed to his quarters, he kept thinking on how the two seemingly opposite ships could have similar damages in such a short length of time. There had to be an answer, but he could not figure out the missing key to it.

* * *

Just as Charlie reached her new quarters, her head still spinning from the conversation on the deck above, red lights and alarms began blaring, startling her. Her heart in her throat from the surprise, Charlie quickly found Philippa and Kate in one of the bedrooms, their eyes wide with fear as they held their hands over their ears to block the noise.

"What's going on?" Kate mouthed.

Quickly covering her own ears against the deafening noise, Charlie shrugged, not knowing how in the space of fifteen minutes everything could deteriorate from bad to worse. Through her improvised earmuffs, she thought she heard the captain call everyone to battle stations, and she knew that whatever was happening, it definitely was not good. Her heart was still beating painfully, but the sight of Philippa's tears of fear forced her to abandon her own internal struggles in order to deal with hers. Charlie hurried over to the bed Kate and Philippa were occupying, forsaking her hear protectors to pull Philippa into her comforting embrace, attempting to assuage the younger woman's panic. Kate was shaking subtly, also trying to ignore her own terror, but failing miserably. Seeing this, Charlie pulled her into her arms as well. _Maybe Jim's analogy of mother hen wasn't so far off, _she thought as she tried to speak calmly to the other two.

After what felt like a lifetime, the alarms died away, a ringing silence left in the wake. Cautiously removing their hands, Kate and Philippa lifted their heads up, cautiously seeing if the alarms would start again.

"I think whatever was happening is over," Charlie commented, disentangling herself from the women, shaking her head to stop the ringing in her ears.

"What was that?" Philippa asked as she sniffled, wiping her tear soaked cheeks.

"Red Alert," Kate answered, running a hand through her hair as she moved to sit on the edge of the small bed. "You know, the shows don't do that justice."

Charlie chuckled relieved it was over. "No they don't. For one, I didn't know they would be so loud, and second, who knew how scary it was."

"Yes, well, we're always shown the bridge," Kate responded, getting off the bed to grab a hairbrush and quickly running it through her long, fiery locks. Brushing her hair was always a soothing motion Kate used when she became agitated. "We usually know what's going on. Being down here without a clear indication is a bit annoying."

"I agree," Charlie nodded. "It sucks not being with the bridge crew on this. I don't think I would be so freaked out if I knew what happened." Philippa continued to sniffle as the other two spoke, her obvious terror still present. "Why don't you go take a shower, Philly?" Charlie recommended softly with a smile. "It might make you feel better."

"I feel fine," Philippa snapped, rubbing her nose in irritation. "I just want to know when we're going home. I really miss my mum and puppies, and I don't want to be here anymore. What if another of those 'Red Alerts' goes off again? What are we supposed to do?"

Charlie signed, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I don't know. I've never had to deal with this before, but I'll find out for you, okay? Maybe there's a safety area we can go to, if they have one."

"Bloody well that'll do us," Philippa huffed.

"I'm trying to help, Philly," Charlie explained calmly.

"You want to help? Get us home."

Before Charlie could say something else, Philippa stood and headed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Charlie winced at the impact, feeling slightly stunned by Philippa's outburst. Between the captain, the Red Alert, and now Philippa, Charlie was feeling down for the count.

"She's just scared, Charlie," Kate affirmed soothingly as she stared at the bathroom door, twirling the brush in her hand. "Don't let it get to you. I know you're trying to help, and I appreciate it. If anyone will get us home, it's you."

Charlie tried to smile, but it came out more as a grimace. With a sigh, she stood and headed to the door toward the main room. "Thanks, Kate," she said quietly. "I'm just going to go chill in the living room for now."

"Okay."

Just as she was about to step into the small hallway, Charlie quickly asked, "Oh, where do we get food, by the way? I'm starving."

"There's a mess hall on the deck below," Kate said. "I've heard people speak of a 'food synthesizer' but I'm not sure how it works."

"Alright, I'll go figure it out."

As she turned to leave, Kate quickly reiterated, "I'm serious, Charlie. You'll fix this."

With a nod, Charlie headed to the living room, flopping onto the couch as she heard the shower turn on in the bathroom. With a sigh, she flung her arm over her eyes in agitation, rubbing the tiredness from them.

The day had definitely spiraled downward since the morning. What started out as promising was now turning into a real trial. She had the concern of her friends to deal with, the task of somehow finding a way to time-travel to another dimension in order to get home, and a very interesting captain who seemed to occupy too many of her brainwaves.

As she reviewed the conversation with him from earlier, she agreed it wasn't all bad. Most of their talk was pleasant if not somewhat uncomfortable. That was normal though, she reasoned. They were two strangers thrown together in a unique and challenging way. It was not surprising that they would be testing the waters, trying to get to know and understand one another. Plus, the more she thought about it, the more she realized she overreacted — again. She prided herself on being so calm and assertive; she may not be a soldier but it is not as if she didn't know how to behave like one. Her father had made sure of that.

With a sigh, Charlie rose from the couch, shaking her brown bangs from her eyes. She needed to stop herself from going down the path of self-reflection, it would only cause her to lose control and that was something she could not afford at the moment.

Noticing a strange machine near the kitchenette, Charlie headed over to see if it was the 'food synthesizer' Kate spoke about. Cut into the wall was square hole about the size of a microwave, a computer built in next to it, and what appeared to be a card slot below the computer. Curious as to the function of the machine, Charlie did what any self-respecting child of the 21st century would do: she started randomly pushing buttons. After a moment, the screen to the computer lit up in blue, asking for a card to be placed in the slot.

Looking around, Charlie could not see anything that would come close to fitting. With an annoyed huff, she started pulling out drawers and opening cupboards until she came across a box in one of the lower shelves. Inside there appeared to be a bunch of credit cards with different food items stamped across the front. Her head cocked to the side, she decided on the one that read 'Terran spaghetti with meat sauce' and inserted the card like an ATM. Once finished, she followed the command displayed and within moments what was an empty box now held a steam plate of pasta.

Her eyes widening in astonishment, Charlie withdrew the plate and set in the counter quickly, surprised by the heat of the food.

"Where in the hell did you get that?" Kate spluttered when she came out of the bedroom.

"Ummm, that thing," Charlie responded, pointing to the food synthesizer.

"Is it safe to eat?" the redhead questioned as she came closer, smelling the delicious aroma.

"I'd assume so, but I'm about to find out." Withdrawing a fork from one of the drawers, Charlie spun a bit of pasta and sauce onto her utensil, and then inserted it into her watering mouth.

"Well?"

"It ain't my mama's," Charlie noted as she swallowed. "But in the grand scheme of things, it's not bad."

"I want one!" Kate exclaimed, reaching for the box on the counter. After following Charlie's directions, she also had a steaming plate of pasta.

They quickly cleaned their plates, and not knowing what to do with them, sat them in sink. Both women were looking over the other choices in the box when Philippa stepped out of the room, her hair still damp. Clearing her throat, she drew the attention of the other two.

"I just want to say that I'm sorry, Charlie. That was rude and selfish of me to speak to you like that. I hope you'll forgive me." The blonde was shuffling her feet, and not quite meeting Charlie's amber gaze. With a smile, the American hurried over to the young woman, and threw her arms around Philippa in a tight hug.

"No harm, no foul," Charlie said as she squeezed, and then released. "We're all a bit stressed with this situation. I don't blame you at all." Philippa smiled; glad to have her apology out of the way. "Now c'mon! I think I saw a card in there for dessert of some kind."

The rest of the evening, the girls stuffed themselves using the food synthesizer, laughing and chatting as they went. If they closed their eyes, and tuned out the sound of the engine, they could almost place themselves back on Earth. Almost.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a surprising blur for Charlie. She developed a routine of spending her mornings in the ship's library, researching anything and everything she could about the new universe she found herself. The librarian was very helpful in showing Charlie how to use a PADD and how to access the Starfleet database to obtain information she needed. In reality, it wasn't much different from using an iPad and searching the internet. Although she had not come across anything of value yet, she was optimistic that she might find something useful the more she worked, and resolved to spend as much time as she could to aid in getting home.

Charlie had spoken to Commander Spock a few times to see if he had any more luck than she did, but she tended to keep the meetings with him short. The Vulcan unsettled her for several reasons; one being his apparently apathetic attitude toward everything and the other simply because he was an alien. Here was a being that came from another planet, in another solar system. While it was all well and good to see actors pretending to be aliens, and the sometimes-laughable UFO stories, being faced with a being literally from another planet was disconcerting.

Unfortunately, for her and her friends while the Vulcan had located the theories he had spoken of in the original meeting, they were nothing more than base questions stemming from a more thorough examination of the senses in humanoid life forms. What he had heard was merely a random brainstorm between colleges with no actual desire to formulate and test their ideas. In fact, while there were several prominent professors and minds in the field of temporal physics and anomalies, there were no prototypes for time travel, only theories.

Charlie tried not to let the disappointment show, saving face in front of the commander, and especially Kate and Philippa. They tried to help, but neither woman had a background in solid science the way Charlie did. Her father was the head of the Engineering department at the Air Force Academy and because of this, she had more than her fair share of science lectures as a child. It still broke her heart, however, each time she came back from the library for lunch, they looked up from the PADDs they had borrowed, hopefulness lighting up their eyes. With a tight smile, all she would say was, "I found something new today. We'll see if it helps."

The only instance she had uncovered about time traveling entities was the apparent appearance of a rogue Romulan ship about twenty-seven years ago, and then said ship going on a rampage twenty-five years later. What she was surprised to discover was the destruction of the ship, and a new type of element deemed "Red Matter" had collided head on with the _Enterprise_ and the captain currently holding court on her bridge. The event must have been the one Jim had referred to in their first discussion. Apparently, in order to destroy the _Narada_, they had to destroy the Red Matter as well, leaving a giant black hole in its wake. Even though the event had occurred years before Charlie had shown up on Nimbus III, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that the only method they knew of was obliterated by the very crew trying to save them.

Nevertheless, she kept her disappointment to herself, using the equipment (mainly the punching bag) in the gym on the twelfth deck in the late afternoons to vent her feelings. Every day she entered the library in the hopes of finding the key, a little speck of information that would point her in the right direction, but after six or seven hours staring at the tiny print on a computer screen with nothing to show for it, she was more than a little agitated. If Philippa and Kate were curious where she went in the afternoons, they never questioned her.

The only salvation of the day came surprisingly from the captain. After their first conversation, both Charlie and Kirk found themselves more often than not meeting in the Captain's observation room after Alpha shift. Either Charlie would be laying on one of the couches reading a PADD when Kirk would saunter in, or Jim would be watching the stars waiting for Charlie to arrive from dinner with Kate and Philippa. How this routine developed, neither could guess, but it seem to be an event both looked forward to.

Jim would talk about his day on the Bridge, the frustrations he was feeling and his annoyance by the Admiralty. It was a relief for him to be able to express his misgivings to someone other than Bones. He appreciated his best friend's advice and guidance, but something about Charlie's demeanor just calmed him and allowed him to focus in a way he never thought possible. She would ask questions in such a manner that he was able to rethink the whole issue, changing his mind and leading him down a path he hadn't considered. He didn't know if her questions were generated because she had no idea of what he was talking about or if she was just curious, but she provided him with more epiphanies than even Bones could do. A feat the ornery doctor found amusing.

Whereas Jim was free to express his emotions, a silent agreement was reached to ignore hers. Charlie was extremely open to talking about her life on Earth, her education and the archaeology digs she had been on in Jordan and around the US. Her family was a nexus of pride for the woman, although she didn't speak much of her father. However, the minute Jim would hint at anything related to how she was feeling in her current situation she would either shut down or redirect to another topic. After she did this a few times, Jim just left the conversation be, figuring that like him, she'd open up when she wanted to. Their conversation ebbed and flowed smoothly, and while it was awkward in the beginning, they now had a rhythm with which they were comfortable, even going so far to tease and banter with each other.

Charlie was surprised that anyone could calm her the way the captain did. The only other person who had ever been able to that was her older brother, and that was only some of the time. Even though she didn't know half of what he was talking about, and asked many questions to learn, just the pitch and roll of Jim's voice was enough to sooth the anxiety she felt. Between the hours in the gym, and the conversations with Kirk, Charlie would also go to be bed optimistic for the next day. She was ready and focused, taking on the hours with renewed vigor. Even if she never told him how she felt, Jim gave Charlie enough emotional support that she felt confident and strong to handle the invariable disappointments of the day; and it was wonderful.

Kate and Philippa did vaguely wonder where she went each night after dinner when they headed to Ten Forward and she wandered off. They tried to ask her about it, but for some reason Charlie wanted to keep her blooming friendship with the captain a secret. Maybe it was because of the hungry look in Philippa's eyes when anyone mentioned his name, but she felt that keeping her friends in the dark was probably the best for them, and for her. Charlie may not tell him of her fear and frustration at their predicament, but Jim helped her stay strong and hopeful that she and her friends would one day get back to 21st century Earth.

As the days continued, Charlie noticed the haggard look Jim was sporting each night he met with her, and a few times he was barely able to get two words out before he was called back to the bridge only to return a few hours later even more exasperated. After the third time this happened and Jim returned looking more frustrated than she had ever seen him, she asked if there was anything she could do to help.

Jim chuckled darkly, rubbing his eyes as he sarcastically replied, "Not unless you can tell me how two freighters, a Federation science vessel, an Andorian research station and a survey ship can all be destroyed from the inside out with no clear indication of how, why, or by who."

Charlie just shrugged and said, "No idea, but someone seriously has an anger management problem."

Kirk chuckled, and Charlie was proud to see some of the tension release from his shoulders as he dropped next to her on the black couch with a loud sigh. While they sat next to each other silently, lost in their own thoughts and watching as the stars sailed by, Charlie wondered how so many ships could be attacked without anyone knowing who did it. Usually if a ship could sneak up using a cloaking device, there was no technology available allowing the vessel to remain cloaked as it fired. Besides, obviously someone was getting onto the ships to attack from within in that blasts were all internalized. It's not like there were any indications of a Trojan Horse.

Charlie knew that eventually the command team would figure it out, and she allowed herself to relax, her eyes closing as she laid her head against the back of couch.

"Charlie?" Jim asked softly after a moment, bringing her out of her contemplation.

"Hmm?" she hummed, her eyes still closed.

"What if you can't get back to your time? What are you going to do?"

Slowly she blinked her eyes open, considering Jim's question. She had thought about that same scenario many times since arriving on the _Enterprise_, but not wanting to jinx it, she would quickly move on to something else.

"I don't know," she sighed, turning to look into the captain's icy blue gaze. "I've considered it, but I don't want think about it right now. It's like giving up, and I refuse to do that."

"It's a possibility though," Kirk pointed out.

"So is getting home. I'd rather focus on that," she said, closing her eyes again, before snapping her head up to regard the Starfleet officer. "Why do ask, anyway?"

Jim shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it. "Just curious. With your archaeology background, you could work under Lieutenant Palamas in the A&A department. I know she could use the help, and would be dying to meet someone from the 21st century. Her focus is technically 19th century Asia, but I don't think she object to an American from 2013."

Charlie regarded Jim skeptically, knowing he wasn't telling her the full truth. She saw him shuffle at her intense gaze as she tried to dissect the true meaning behind his question. Unable to discern the real reason she shrugged. "I guess. I never thought I'd be a museum exhibit," she joked.

"Well, you are pretty ancient," Kirk teased and Charlie laughed. It was now an old inside joke between the two. Feeling a bit sarcastic one day, Charlie had called the captain "pobrecito," which meant 'poor baby' in Spanish. In response, Jim had called her an old woman, and since then, they continued to banter back and forth about their ages. After all, Charlie was now 268 years old, even though she vehemently argued she was still twenty-three and jumping through time didn't count.

"Well if I'm ancient, then you're an infant," Charlie pointed out with a smile.

"Oh I know, Bones tells me all the time," Jim laughed.

"Remind me to tell Dr. McCoy he's my new best friend," Charlie said.

"Oh ha, ha, ha," Jim responded, a surprisingly dark look entering his eyes before it left as quickly as it came. Charlie almost thought Jim had a flash of jealously, but mental shrugged it off. It was late and she was probably seeing things.

"Well, as much as I'd love to sit and chat all night, Cap'n, you have Alpha shift tomorrow, and I need to be in the library early," Charlie remarked, attempting to stand. "Lt Romaine says there's some new information coming out of a research station that she flagged for me."

As she stood up, the back of Charlie's legs hit the couch, sending her off balance. Before she could fall back onto the sofa, Jim had reached out, and pulled her into his embrace, allowing her regain her balance gracefully. Charlie blushed, butterflies swirling in her stomach as she lifted her head up to look into Jim's eyes. This was closest she had been to him since he carried her to sickbay. She was so close she could see flecks of grey in his sky colored eyes. Her blush deepening, especially by the look that had come over Jim's face; one that made the butterflies become little dragons. Charlie quickly stepped out of his arms, trying to distant herself from him and the feelings he erupted inside her.

"Um, thanks," she stuttered. "I'll, um, I'll catch you later. Don't kill yourself tomorrow, k?"

She was backing away a quickly, and stumbled into a table she didn't notice. Laughing embarrassingly, she spun and headed toward the ramp, her face burning.

"Hey Charlie!" Jim called as she started up the ramp.

"Yea?" She asked hesitantly, obviously wanting to leave as quickly as possible to avoid further embarrassment.

"Same time tomorrow?"

She smiled wide, relieved that her blunder hadn't affected anything. Jim's heart stopped at her genuine smile, an expression he hadn't seen on her before. While he thought her moderately pretty with her dark, wavy hair, pale skin, and dark amber eyes, when she smiled she was stunning.

"Of course," she answered. "Until tomorrow, Jim."

She turned and headed up the ramp, and as hard as he tried, Jim couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face.

* * *

**Reviews, pretty please?**


	8. Chapter Eight: There's Nothing Like

**I just want to take this time to thank everyone who has reviewed so far! The response from the last chapter was amazing and completely made my week! The ball's rolling faster now, and I hope you all enjoy the rollercoaster we're about to go on! As always, please take two minutes and review at the end. :) I love you all!**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: There's Nothing Like a First Kiss**

When Charlie entered her quarters that night, she couldn't stop a smile from spilling across her face. Yes, they were still stuck in the 23rd century. Yes, Kate and Philippa were still terrified, although they were able to handle it better as time went on, and yes, there was a good possibility that they were never going to get home. But at that moment in time, and the feeling of warmth pulsing through her system, Charlie could care less.

Noticing that both her friends were in bed, she quietly completed her nighttime procedure, tiptoeing into the room she was sharing with Kate. When the girls were first shown their rooms, Kate and Philippa each chose separate accommodation, so when Charlie joined, she had to share.

Slipping under the cool sheets, Charlie laid back against the pillow, her thoughts on the deck above.

"Charlie?" Kate sleepily called out.

"I'm here, Kate," Charlie whispered.

"Where were you?"

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

"Mhmmm, okay," Kate replied as she rolled over and was asleep in minutes.

Charlie continued to lay awake, staring at the ceiling as the feeling of soaring lingered in her system. Finally, a contentedness stole over and she closed her eyes, drifting into a sleep where blue-eyed captains awaited her.

* * *

The next few days passed by in a blur for Charlie. She was stuck in a permanently good mood, something that did not go unnoticed by either of her friends. The research from a station deep in the Gamma Quadrant held some promising theories, one of which discussed the use of emotions and senses as a viable tool for navigation. She wasn't sure exactly how it worked, something about the electrodes in the brain and the energy produced during cerebral chemical reactions. It was fascinating, and she quickly brought it to Commander Spock's attention. Even though he never expressed it, she thought he was impressed by her determination in accessing the information they needed. It might have been her imagination, but she didn't care. Promising to investigate it further, she was proud finally to have something strong to present to Kate and Philippa.

It also helped that her late nights always ended with Jim, laughing, teasing, and flirting with one another. She couldn't wait to tell him about her discovery, which he quickly responded with false cheerfulness. She couldn't be sure, but it appeared to her that he might not actually want her to leave; their friendship becoming an integral part of their lives. This idea, while ludicrous to her rational side didn't stop her from wanting to be around Jim as often as she could.

They always started out their evenings sitting so far from each other on the couch, but by the time they were ready to leave, they were right next to each other, their legs barely brushing. He started joining her and her friends at lunch in the mess, something that seemed to make Philippa very happy. She was throwing all of coy flirtatious moves toward the captain, and while he always responded, Charlie was surprised (and as much as she hated to admit it pleased) that it was nowhere like he was with her. The base, emotionally conscious side of her wanted to snap at Philippa to drop her flirtation, but seeing her friend happy and energetic forced her to curb her tongue. Harmless flirting was not a problem, and it seemed to bring Philippa out of her funk, much to Kate and Charlie's relief.

Nevertheless, no matter how Philippa teased and flirted, Charlie noticed how Jim would always stand closest to her when they left the mess, his hand barely brushing hers, acting as if they were accidents. At first she thought they were, but now she was not so sure. Then again, maybe she wanted them to happen and was facilitating a misinterpretation in her mind. What did her father always tell her: _You must be calm and logical, stop letting your emotions control you!_ And there were many emotions running through her.

Unfortunately, her contentedness was not to last aboard the starship. During one lunch meeting between the Captain, Spock, McCoy and the women, Philippa noticed how Jim's attention, normally focused on her, seemed to shift to Charlie more and more. Charlie was clearly aware, blushing subtly every time his eyes landed on her, and while she kept a decent conversation going with the doctor, she would shoot looks toward him in return when she thought he wasn't looking. Philippa narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the relationship between the captain and her friend.

She slowly grew silent as the lunch went on, and although both Kate and Charlie noticed, and tried to get her to participate, Philippa was feeling such a sense of perfidy that she could barely control her reactions. She merely picked at her food, and after the lunch hour was up and the men returned to their stations, Charlie finally asked what was bothering her.

"Nothing," she replied sulkily.

"Obviously it's not nothing," Charlie continued. "You were so animated when lunch started, but now you look like someone punched a puppy."

"Not funny, Charlie," Philippa snapped.

"It wasn't supposed to be. What's wrong?"

"C'mon, Sweetheart," Kate added. "You know you can tell us anything."

"Can I?" Philippa scowled. Charlie narrowed her eyes, not liking the mood Philippa was slipping into.

"What's that supposed to mean, Philly?" Charlie retorted.

"You know exactly what I mean, Charlie!" Philippa exploded. "You know I like the Captain, yet you couldn't stop sending all those flirty little looks to him. His attention wouldn't leave you all through lunch."

Charlie sat there, dumbfounded. She knew she was checking Jim out occasionally, but she didn't think his attention was riveted on her. She could feel his gaze a few times, but it's not as if he didn't direct his attention to everyone at the table. In addition, while it should have been obvious, Charlie honestly didn't know Philippa liked him beyond a casual attraction. Granted the woman was flirting with him, but Charlie only interpreted it as an innocent reaction. He did rescue them after all.

"Philippa, I don't think Charlie meant to do that at all." Kate, the ever-present peacemaker tried to argue. "She wouldn't do that."

And with that one statement, the guilt at hiding her late night meetings with Jim swelled up within her.

"Then why couldn't he take his eyes off of her?" Philippa snapped back. "It's not as if he's spent any more time with her than he has with us."

Charlie closed her eyes, her chin dropping down to her chest as she avoided her friend's glare.

"That's . . . not necessarily true," Charlie spoke softly, lifting her head up to regard her friends' stunned expressions.

"Charlie?" Kate asked.

With a sigh, Charlie divulged, "The Captain and I have spent the evenings in the observational room on deck five. But all we were doing was talking!" she quickly added.

"Just talking, huh?" Kate voiced skeptically. Philippa just stared at Charlie, horrified and filled with betrayal.

"Yes! I swear!" Charlie quickly defended herself. "Listen, with this whole situation, I needed somewhere to go to think, to process everything. He happened to need the same thing, and we kept meeting in the same place. We started talking and realized we could help each other, but that's all that happened."

"So you've been lying to us this whole time?" Philippa spoke.

"No! Well, yes, kinda, I — Philippa!" Before she could finish her statement, Philippa sprung up and hurried out of the mess.

"Just let her calm down," Kate said soothingly. "I'll talk to her."

With a growl, Charlie stood up. "Thanks, but no thanks Kate. It's about time we hashed this out. I'm not about to be the bad guy here."

Charlie quickly followed Philippa, knowing she was heading to their room. Once inside, and Kate right on her heels, Charlie found Philippa on the couch, her eyes puffy, but her chin jutted out in anger.

"Listen, Philly, I know you're upset, but—"

"Like hell you know how I feel," Philippa cried. "All this time, instead of finding us a way home, you were flirting it up with the Captain behind my back!"

"I was doing no such thing, Philippa!" Charlie snapped in response, her hands on her hips. "I spent every goddamn day in that library trying to find anything and everything to get us back. I have worked so hard to get us home, to fix this! And I honestly didn't even know you liked him like that."

Philippa laughed humorlessly, "Like that's going to make me feel better. I don't care what you say, Charlie. We're in this mess, and you promised to fix it. But instead, all you've done is abandon us for a pair of pretty blue eyes."

"That's not fair, Philippa," Kate admonished as Charlie glared.

"So is being here!" Philippa screamed standing up. "It's not fair that we're stuck on this fucking ship, in the middle of fucking nowhere, with no fucking way to get home. Add to the fact that Charlie has been lying to us this whole time, stabbing us behind our backs and we've just put the icing on the fucking cake."

Charlie was shaking with anger as she and Philippa glared at each other. All of her disappointment, guilt, and fear were rearing up inside her, after she had tried so hard to keep them in check.

"I have done everything I can to protect you, Philippa," Charlie ground out between clenched teeth. "I have placed you above me in everything, made sure you were safe, you had enough food, you were taken care of. I have lost sleep and energy researching everything I possibly can, even when I don't understand half of it trying to find a clue, a sliver of information to help us. I took a fucking bullet for you Philly, and yet you throw it back in my face because I didn't want to show you how stressed, and scared, and worried I really was. Well you know what fuck it! Find your own goddamn way home. I'm done."

Charlie spun on her heel, her eyes full of tears as she marched out of their quarters. She was so incredibly angry she was ready to punch a wall. The members of the _Enterprise_ quickly moved out of her way when they saw her thunderous look as she stomped down to the turbolift. Within five minutes she was in the empty gym on deck twelve, dressed down to only black pants and tank top, music blaring in her ears as she pounded into the bag in front of her. She was in such a rage she barely applied the tape to her hands before her fist connected with the canvas. Each hit was accompanied by a loud grunt, tears leaking down her cheeks.

How could Philippa do that to her? She kept asking herself. Jab, jab, hook, elbow. Who the hell did she think she was? It was not as if she made it any easier on Charlie; always depressed, always crying, milking the whole woe-as-me act to a T. Knee, elbow, jab, jab. What else could Charlie have done? Was she really so horrible to seek comfort from someone else? Charlie was strong, but even she had her limits. Hook, dodge, uppercut.

Charlie didn't know how long she was in the gym. Song after song kept playing from her iPod, none of them soothing her. She kept replaying the conversation, renewing her anger when she began to feel tired. Sweat poured down her face, but she flicked the liquid away irritably. The pulsing of her heart, the sharpness of the air in her lungs, her shaking muscles grounded her in the moment.

She would apologize. She had to, to make the peace but for that one moment Charlie would pretend that she didn't give a shit. But she did, and it was tearing her up inside how she spoke to Philippa.

The only thing to pull her out of focus was the sudden movement of a hand clamping down on her shoulder. The contact startled her so much that without even thinking, she spun around, her fist connecting with the jaw of the man behind her. Just as suddenly as the contact came, Charlie realized it was the Captain who had grabbed her; a captain who was lying on the ground, rolling his jaw around in his hand.

"Jesus, Jim!" Charlie exclaimed, pulling her ear buds from her ears. "You should know better than to sneak up on me like that."

"Obvious not well enough," he remarked, as he stood up still massaging his jaw. "Nice right hook."

"Thanks," she huffed.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, spinning around to renew her assault on the canvas.

"I can see that," he commented dryly.

"What do you want, Jim? Aren't you in the middle of your shift?"

"Something came to my attention."

Charlie paused, her break from concentration by the arrival of Jim alerting her brain to her level of exhaustion. With a sigh, she began pulling off the tape, her knuckles decidedly raw, even with the protection.

"Oh yea? What was that?" she asked distractedly as she lifted a bottle of water to her mouth.

"Apparently there was someone on my ship who was ready to wreak havoc on anyone who got in her way." Charlie glanced sideways at the disapproving look on the Captain's face. "Want to tell me what's up?"

Twisting the cap on the bottle, Charlie replied, "Not really."

Jim sighed, her evasiveness in dealing with her feelings beginning to grind on his nerves. He knew keeping all the stress in would hurt her in the end, and by the intensity of her fighting when he walked in, it might already be doing that. "You can trust me you know."

She glanced at him, startled that he would say such a thing. "I do trust you."

"Then tell me what's wrong. Obviously something is, and by the way Kate was acting when I talked her, it's not good."

Charlie sighed, taking a seat on the bench by the wall as she ran a towel over her sweaty brow and neck under her now frizzy braid. Kirk quickly followed. "It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me. Spock as the conn, so I've got time."

Charlie just sat silently for a moment, but Jim could see she wasn't so quiet on the inside. Her eyes were flickering back and forth, obviously reliving something inside her mind. She was chewing her bottom lip, and quickly tears filled her eyes. She brushed them aside with the towel, trying to hide it from Jim. In the short time he's known her, he had never seen her cry. Fight, laugh, snarl, question, he seen all manner of emotions from her, but never had she cried.

When she turned back, her eyes were puffy, but there was a lack of moisture to them. "Philippa and I got into a fight," she whispered, looking down at her red knuckles.

"About what?" Jim questioned softly.

"It's stupid really," she sniffed with a shrug.

"Not stupid enough to stop you from beating the daylights out of the punching bag. I mean really, what did it ever do to you?" Jim lightly teased.

Charlie chuckled wetly, running her hand under her running nose. After a moment she began, "I never told Philly and Kate about our meetings in the evenings. I honestly didn't think it was a big deal, but Philippa thought otherwise. She said that instead of finding a way home, I abandoned them for a 'pair of pretty blue eyes.'" She glanced sideways, seeing the scowl marring Jim's face. "She said that I betrayed them and I . . . I lost it," she sniffed, her tears coming back. "I threw everything I had done for them in her face like it was her fault. I—" her voiced cracked as a new set of emotion rolled up. She took a breath and continued, "I told her it was time for her to find her own way home, that I was done. God, I'm such a horrible friend," she sobbed, her face falling into the towel as she cried.

Not knowing what else to do, Jim pulled her into his arms, letting her cry against his shoulder as all the sensations from their arrival since Nimbus III raged through her. She shook by the force of her sobs, hiccupping as the tears poured from her eyes. Cautiously he rubbed her back, whispering soothing words to her. He was never one to handle these types of emotional outbursts well, usually using the energy to destroy whatever had caused them. But as he looked down at the sobbing woman in his arms, he knew there was no way to defeat what was causing her to hurt.

The argument was stupid, he agreed, but it had been building for some time. He could see the tension between Charlie and Philippa, and he knew the dam would burst eventually. He just didn't expect it to be over him.

Just as suddenly as the tears rolled through, Charlie quieted. Realizing where she was, she sat up quickly, turning away from the captain as embarrassment crawled over her skin.

"I'm sorry, I—" she stuttered, standing up as she grabbed her stuff to make a hasty retreat.

"Oh no you don't," Kirk said as he quickly stood up and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into his embrace. "We're going to talk and sort this out. All you keep doing in running away."

Charlie refused to look him in the eye, so with his hand he tilted her chin up, his sky colored gaze meeting her earthy one. "I told you," she said softly, her eyes wavering. "I'm not very good at expressing myself."

"You seem pretty capable from where I'm standing," Jim huskily replied. She only a few inches below him, so close that he could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her breath lightly grazing his face.

"I—" she trailed off, not knowing what to say. A new sensation, one she had never really felt before cascaded like a torrent through her small frame. The blue fire in his eyes held her captivated, unable to think or breathe. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Jim lowered his head toward hers. Her eyes widened, but she didn't pull away, a silent confirmation. He continued until his lips were barely brushing against hers. She was pulled tight like a wire, ready to snap with slightest force. Her heart pounded, her ears were ringing, and part of her was telling her the run while the other begged her to stay. Just as she was about to bring her lips onto his, an alarm sounded, stunning the pair as they jumped apart.

"What is that?" she asked, breathless.

"I don't know," Jim grumbled, his heart pounding. Pulling out his communique, he snapped into it, "Kirk to Bridge. What the hell is going on, Spock?"

"_We have intruders onboard, Captain,_" the Vulcan replied.

"Where?" Jim barked his captain hat back on.

"_Deck six, section C, room 20._"

"No," Charlie breathed, her face paling. "Philippa! Kate!"

"Charlie wait!" Jim yelled, but it was too late, she was running out the door.

"Send security, Spock," Kirk ordered as he walked hastily out of the gym. "I'll meet them there."

"_Understood. Spock out._"

"Shit."


	9. Chapter Nine: Houston, We Have a Problem

**Chapter Nine: Houston, We Have a Problem**

The panic Charlie was experiencing was like nothing she ever felt before. Even waking up on Nimbus III to the sight of two moons did not even compare to that moment and it felt like a century passed as the turbolift slowly brought her to deck six. She could not even wait for the doors to open before she was flying down the hallway, dodging around individuals left and right. She knew Jim would be following behind, probably with a whole squadron of security, but she needed to get there first; she need to get to her friends. She did not know who or what had infiltrated the _Enterprise_, but whatever it was, it had power behind it.

Skidding to a stop in front of the automatic doors, Charlie took a deep breath as she held up her shaking hand to the sensor pad. The doors hissed opened silently as they always had, and she rushed in before they were even open a foot.

"Kate! Philippa!" she called, quickly spying her friends huddled in the corner. Running over to their sides, she knelt down, noticing the terror that was etching across their eyes as the Red Alert continued to blare loudly. "Guys, there's an intruder on the _Enterprise_ and we need to get out of here! C'mon." She went to pull Philippa up by her arm, but all the blonde could do was sputter as she pointed behind Charlie.

Spinning around, Charlie took in the terrifying sight of a figure clothed in a dark robe. In her haste to find her friends, she had completely overlooked the form standing in the opposite corner. Slowly and deliberately Charlie rose to her feet, planting herself between her friends and whoever was in the robe.

"I'm afraid you are not going anywhere, Miss Noland," the man said, lowering his billowed hood. He was a slightly portly man, with grey hair slicked back from his face and curling just under his ears. Wrinkles were sprouting around the corners of his ice blue eyes and under his white, trimmed beard. He was smiling, but in predatory way. "Except with me, of course. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Who are you? How do you know me?" Charlie asked hesitantly, her heart rising into her throat in fear.

"I'm the one who brought you and your friends here," he stated. His accent was strange, almost British with flare of French and Russian spun in. Each word he spoke confused Charlie even more.

"Wait, you, what? Who _are_ you?!" she snapped, her panic rising.

"Ah yes, forgive me. Doctor Robert Sagan, Professor of Quantum Mechanics and Temporal Anomalies, at your service," he bowed mockingly.

"A-a professor . . . _you_ brought us here?" she questioned, ignoring his long and arduous title.

"Well I was aiming for just you, my dear," he remarked dryly. "Your friends here were just attachments; ones who threw off my calculations that landed you on Nimbus III instead of my ship." He glared over at the two women who cowered away.

"What—" Charlie stuttered, her head spinning as she tried to understand what the man was saying to her. "What do you want with me?"

Just as Dr. Sagan opened his mouth to reply, the doors to her quarters burst open, the Captain and several members of security following behind. Charlie felt a sense of relief when Jim's blue eyes connected with hers, before they moved on to the other man in the room.

"I am Captain James T. Kirk and you have—"

Before he could finish his sentence, an electric pulse shot from somewhere in Dr. Sagan's robes, hitting Kirk square in the chest and sending him flying into the security personnel behind, knocking them all over like bowling pins.

"JIM!" Charlie yelled, taking a few steps toward the injured captain. Before she could move further, a barrier was generated between the Starfleet officers and herself, sufficiently caging her into her quarters. The shield rippled like water, the only indication it existed before it settled, becoming invisible like a plane of glass. Several of the security team shot off their phasers, but the wall only absorbed their impact, dissipating the energy like water in a hot pan. "What did you do to him?!" Charlie screamed, turning her attention to the man in the corner, shaking in both anger and heightened horror.

He shrugged as he replied, "I didn't like his tone. Don't worry, my dear. It was merely a stun, he should come around in a few moments. Now! If you would be so kind, we have a date with destiny," he added as he reached out to grab Charlie's arm.

She quickly dodged his hand, snarling, "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Oh, but you are, Miss Noland. I have invested too much time and energy in bringing you here—"

"Why did you even bring me here? Bring _us_ here," She interrupted.

The man scowled, "All in good time."

"No, you're going to tell me now," Charlie demanded, her anger beginning to overtake her fear. Anger was something she knew, something she could hold to.

Sagan sighed, his eyes hardening like ice shards. "I'm not one to be ordered, Miss Noland. You best learn that quickly."

"I don't really give a shit. You come in here and threaten my friends, telling me _you're_ the one to bring us here with no explanation as to why, and then you shoot my captain in the chest!" she spat. "I'm slightly disinclined to listen to anything you have to say." Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie notice Jim was beginning to come round, burn marks marring his gold shirt.

"I really didn't want to do this Miss Noland," Sagan sighed, bringing her attention back to him. "But you leave me no choice. If you do not come with me in the next few minutes, I will blow this ship and all of its inhabitants into the next quadrant."

"Don't listen to him, Charlie," Kirk choked, wincing while he stood, holding a hand to his burning chest. "He's bluffing."

"Am I?" Sagan sneered, directing his attention to Jim. "You and all your little Starfleet folk think you know exactly what everyone is going to do, like little puppeteers. Trust me, _Captain_," he spat. "You do not know what I'm capable of."

Charlie observed the exchange with growing alarm. How was she going to get out of this situation? She could not move far because of the barrier, but she also had Kate and Philippa behind her, sniffling in their fear. They apparently did something to piss off Sagan, so there was no way he was getting near them. However, there was also no way in hell she was going anywhere with the psychotic doctor.

"Miss Noland, I do not have time for this," Sagan said, growing more agitated. "Either you come with me now, or I blow this ship apart. It's as simple as that."

Charlie didn't know what to do, standing in the middle of the room like a deer in the headlights, her head swiveling between a concerned Jim and her terrified friends.

"Why should I go with you, when you're going to blow this ship apart when we leave?" she reasoned shrewdly. She was in a tactical battle, and for once she was happy she had paid attention to her father.

Sagan scowled. "I swear to you, no harm with come to the ship if you follow me now."

"Bullshit," she snapped. "I see the lie behind your eyes. You're going to destroy this ship, no matter what I do. Just like . . . hang on, you were the one who attacked all those other ships, weren't you?" It was a random play, and Charlie was surprised to see the confirmation flash across his gaze. Quickly she continued, "All those ships; all those vessels filled with people you never met, who have never done anything to you, were blown apart from the inside. That means explosives had to be planted without their knowledge. I bet you placed booby traps all around this ship before you even knew if I was here. Am I right?"

Sagan smirked, more annoyed than impressed. "Apparently the military mind of the Noland's goes back further than I believed."

Charlie realized she was backed into a corner with no alternatives that she could discern. Her stalling tactic had scored her nothing; no plan of action or way around the situation. In fact, her revelations had made the problem that much worse. Here was a man who cared little for those he harmed, as long as he got what he wanted. He would blow the ship apart, and his hardened gaze gave no room for quarter.

After a moment, and squaring her shoulders she stated, "Remove the bombs and I'll come with you." She heard small cries of "No!" both behind and to the side of her, but she had no choice.

"Now why would I do that? Those are an insurance policy for your cooperation."

"No, they're a threat, and I don't take kindly to those," she replied, her eyes hardening. "If you remove the explosives, and guarantee that no harm will come to this ship or any other in the Federation, then I will come with you on my own free will. However," she added. "If you decide you need an 'insurance policy' for my cooperation, I will fight you. I will kick, and scream, and bite, and rain such a hell down upon your head you won't know what hit you. Got it?" She narrowed her eyes, telling him silently she meant what she said. On the inside, though, she was shaking in fear, her palms sweaty and her heart beating so hard she was afraid it was going to pop out of her chest.

Sagan only smirked as he lifted a communique to his lips. "Sagan to Kretorg, remove the devices."

"_What?!_" a voice snapped.

"You heard me," Sagan snapped. "Now do it, it's for a _friend_." Charlie frowned as he leered at her.

"_Of course. Kretorg out._"

Sagan smiled as he snapped the communique shut. "Done. Now, my dear if you would be so kind—"

"NO!" Kirk yelled as he ran at the barrier, crashing into it as it knocked him back. "I won't let you take her!"

"I'm afraid you have no choice, Captain," Sagan shrugged nonchalantly as he held his hand out for Charlie. Hesitantly she walked toward the doctor, Kate and Philippa's cries pulling at her chest. She had to do it, for them and for the ship. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.

She turned to see the stricken face of Jim as he tried to find a way around the barrier; pacing like a caged tiger, her heart clenching at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she whispered. "Just don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Save my friends okay? Get them home. Please, do it for me."

"I'll get you back, Charlie. I promise," Jim vowed.

Before the Charlie could reply, Sagan grabbed her arm and the two disappeared in a swirl of white. The barrier broke as well, and while Jim ran to where they were just standing, Sagan and Charlie were gone.

* * *

Jim could only stare at the empty spot on the carpet. Gone. She was really gone and he couldn't stop it. She was taken from him without even a second thought by a crazy lunatic who somehow infiltrated his ship. A grim determination stealing over his features, he quickly pulled out his communique, snapping it open.

"Kirk to Engineering. Please tell me you picked up that transporter signal, Mr. Scott."

"_Aye, Cap'n. I got the ones in the lass's quarters and twenty-two other signatures all over our lady. Sixteen just in engineering the bugger._"

"Scotty, I needed your team to place containment field over them as quick as possible."

"_Already on it._"

"Good, because I—" Several explosions rocked the ship, spending Jim and several others to their knees.

"_Blast! I've got ta go, Cap'n. We've had three explode down here. Oy! Set a containment field 'round that leak._"

"Life support?" Kirk barked. If this guy was the one who had attacked the other ships, he would not resist taking out the central nerve of the _Enterprise_.

"_Negative impact. We contained all the ones around 'er vitals first. Just minor damage, but it looked like one of 'em got near the Warpcore. No damage to it, just some connectors blew. Bastard! We lost the connectors for impulse and warp."_

"Get on it, Mr. Scott. We need warp online as soon as possible. Kirk out."

Captain Kirk was about to rush out of the quarters and head to the bridge when a soft voice stopped him.

"Captain?" It was Philippa, and she was distraught, tears pulling her mascara and liner down her face in black streaks. "You're going to get our friend, right? You're going to bring Charlie back. Please, I'll do anything, just bring her back," she sobbed.

Kirk ran a hand through his hair in agitation, her pleas like the one his heart was screaming. Glancing back at the woman, he said, "Of course I'm going to get her back. I'm not going to let that . . . that . . ."

"Dr. Sagan," Kate finished, rising to stand next to Philippa. "He said his name is Dr. Sagan and that he was the one who brought us here."

Kirk was surprised to hear that tidbit of information. His anger growing with each moment, he stomped over to the two women, grabbing their shoulders, he vowed, "I don't care how long it takes, or what has to be done. I'll bring her back, even if it's the last thing I ever do. I will find her."

Both women nodded. Releasing them, Kirk turned and strode from the room, the Bridge his next target. As soon as the doors to the lift opened, he began snapping off orders, his voice brokering no room for argument.

"Status, Mr. Spock."

"Damage reported on decks seven, eleven, fifteen, and sixteen. We lost impulse and warp power, as well as the cooling system for the dilithium chamber, but Lieutenant Commander Scott has informed me that has since been repaired."

"Casualties?"

"Four dead; two in engineering, one on deck eleven, and one on deck sixteen. Twenty more were injured."

Kirk was practically growling with anger. Turning to his communications officer, he quickly ordered, "Uhura, send a message to Starfleet, priority one. We found the culprit behind the attacks."

"Aye Captain."

"Chekov! Sulu! I want a detailed analysis on how the hell they got onboard. See if you can trace the transporter signals to an origin point."

"Captain, may I inquire as to the details pertaining to our intruders?" Spock asked after Jim sat on his command chair.

"Gone, that bastard. And he took Charlie," was all the man said, his fist clenching as he recalled the helplessness he felt when she was pulled away.

"He who?"

"Some Doctor Sagan," Kirk answered. "He is apparently the one behind all the attacks over the last few weeks as well as bringing Charlie, Kate, and Philippa here."

"Fascinating."

"Did I ever tell you, you say that that a lot," Kirk remarked.

Spock only raised an eyebrow. "Not in the last 28.6 hours."

"Oh, good. Your keeping track."

"Incoming message from Starfleet, Captain," Uhura interjected. "They have given us the go ahead to intercept and arrest the attackers."

"Finally. Sulu, as soon as —" an explosion rocked the bridge, blowing the Captain from his chair as others took cover. The last thing Jim remembered was a blurry Spock kneeling over him, calling his name. Then everything went black and he knew no more.

* * *

The minute the white mist of the transporter dissipated, Charlie gasped. Instead of the guests quarters on the _Enterprise_ she now stood on the misted bridge of a Klingon Bird-of-Prey. The air was overly warm and sticky, Charlie's black top almost too hot for her as she struggled to breathe in the thick air. Surrounding her were eight or nine Klingons, seeming taller and fiercer than the ones she had battled on Nimbus III. When they noticed her presence on the Bridge, several appeared to snarl at her, and she took a few hesitant steps back.

"So, this is the human?" a deep voice growled. Charlie glanced up into the imposing, dark eye of the Captain, his black, wavy hair fanned around his rigid head. He had an ugly, jagged scar running along the side of his face, and one of his eyes was pure white. Several weapons of varying degrees were strapped to his hip, chest and leg, and a large, curved metal blade lay next to his feet like a dog.

Charlie swallowed, her fear an imposing force in her system. She could not look away from the terrifying created seated in front of her.

"She's the one we need, Kretorg," Sagan replied, oblivious to her distress. "Did you do as I requested."

"Of course," the Klingon replied disgusted. "Do you think I am so incompetent I couldn't follow a simple signal, baQa'?"

"Not in the slightest," Sagan responded deftly.

Suddenly, one of the Klingons shouted something in his guttural home language, pointing to the view screen. Curiously turning to regard the scene, Charlie's mouth dropped open as she saw clouds of debris spray from several sections of the _Enterprise_. Tears clouded her eyes as she regarded the scene, not knowing if her friends were hurt or even alive at that moment. Quickly her horror was replaced by anger.

"You bastard!" she shouted, spinning around toward the doctor. Without even thinking, she launched herself at him, her anger blinding her to where she was hitting. She was suddenly pulled back after only a couple blows, two pairs of hands grabbing her arms and hauling her away painfully as she struggled against whoever held her. She knew by the force of their grips she would have bruises on her arms, but she didn't care. She was blinded by rage and grief.

"You swore they were removed!" she cried when she realized she couldn't get back to him. "I heard you! You had the explosives pulled off the ship!"

"I told you, they were insurance for your cooperation," Sagan replied, looking slightly more ruffled by her assault. "I removed them, but you failed to cooperate, berating me with questions and stalling my mission. Therefore, you needed to be punished."

"Then punish me!" She shouted. "_ME_! Don't take it out on them, they did nothing to you!"

The Captain smirked as he regarded the struggling human. "She has courage I have not seen in many of your kind," he remarked as if discussing the weather.

"You stay out of this, you monster!" Charlie swore, glaring at the Klingon. "You're just as bad as _him_."

"Watch your impertinence, human," the deadly voice of the Klingon Captain spat. "I am Captain, and I have killed stronger and braver men for less."

Charlie snapped her mouth shut, partly from his overt threat, and partly because she was beyond the ability for words. She stopped her struggling slowly, her strained muscles protesting from their abuse. She was slowly numbing, both emotionally and physically as she regarded the painful view of a damaged _Enterprise. _What had she done to deserve something so cruel?

"Set a course for the Boradis system," Sagan announced. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we get our prize. Bring the girl," he added to the two Klingons restraining her as he turned and left the bridge. Both of the creatures followed, practically dragging her strung between them. She tried to pull her arms from their hands, only making them angrier and tightening their grip. She winced at the strength the Klingons seemed to possess, and she had a feeling they were not even taxing themselves.

Once off the bridge, she quickly diverted her attention to the inner cambers of the vessel. Like the bridge, the air was overly warm, mists shrouding the ceiling and corners. It was dark as well with only a few red and yellow lights illuminating the steel-lined corridors. Charlie and her captors passed several crewmembers as they dragged her on, her presence causing them to snarl and bark at her in the same language she heard before.

Her eyes were wide and she was terrified at each interaction. She tried to use her guards more as shields, but they were having none of it, shaking her roughly when she attempted to hide behind them. Their terrible voices echoed through the hallway like a horror film as they gruffly scolded her. She couldn't understand what they said, but their barked orders and steel in their eyes gave her a clear indication what they meant.

Finally, Sagan stopped in front of an inconspicuous door, entering a clearance code as well as his fingerprints before it hissed opened. He gestured to the Klingons before she was unceremoniously shoved into the tiny room, falling painfully onto the steel bed. There was only a thin pad between the cold metal and her skin, an even thinner blanket and pillow at the foot. There was no window in the room, which appeared more like a glorified broom closet than bedroom, and a small toilet and sink sat opposite the bed. Other than those pieces of furniture, there was nothing else; no mirror, decorations, or even a damn magazine.

Sagan entered after he made a command to the other two, the language of the Klingons a strange sound coming from his lip. Once inside, the door hissed shut behind him, leaving the two alone in the semi dark. Charlie backed into the corner of the bed as far as she could, tucking the stray strands of dark hair that had come loose from her braid. She considered the impassive doctor with a mix of fear and anger. She would have loved nothing more than to pound his head into the steel sink, but she had a feeling she would not get far before the commotion drew the attention of the guards at her door. Instead, she just regarded him angrily, glaring with all the force she could muster. He just laughed.

"You Nolands really are a unique breed," he chuckled, striding to sit on the opposite corner. "Even in the most dire situations, you never lose your courage. Always so proud, so loyal; true soldiers through and through."

"How do you know so much about my family?" she asked cautiously. It was true. For as far back as her family went, they had always been soldiers. Fighting for King and Country in medieval Europe, and then soldiers in the American Armed Forces, her ancestors were known for their loyalty, their sense of justice, and most of all their ability to sacrifice everything for their belief. That's why it was so strange that Charlie had not been a soldier; why her father had practically disowned her when she decided to move to England instead of enlisting in officers' training.

"I've had dealings with your family for many years," Sagan responded almost nostalgically.

"Then why do you need me? Why not use one of them?" Charlie snapped. She was beginning to develop a headache from all the stress when had been under the last twenty-four hours. God, was is only this morning that she and Philippa fought?

"There are no others," he shrugged.

"That's impossible."

Sagan smirked, "Oh it's very possible. Your family's regard for the military has led to a steadily declining birthrate; so far to the point that the last member of your bloodline died several months ago. He left no siblings or children. Your family has been wiped out of the universe."

Charlie could nothing but stare at the gloating doctor, someone she was steadily concluding to be insane.

"I don't believe you," she said, hoping to draw something else from him.

Sagan merely shrugged, "Whether you believe or not is little consequence. You are here, and they are not. The facts are indisputable."

"But why do you need me? Why couldn't you use my . . . relative before he died?"

"His death was rather sudden," Sagan clipped, obviously irritated by an unknown fact. Standing up abruptly, Sagan sneered down his nose at Charlie. "I do hope you enjoy your quarters. It'll be about a week before we reach our destination, so you might want to get comfortable."

"Wait! You haven't told me anything," Charlie snapped, reaching to grab Sagan's dark robe. He quickly whipped it out of her grasp as he knocked twice on the door before it swished open.

"Need to know, Miss Noland. Have a good afternoon."

The door closed behind him and she was left in the dark.


	10. Chapter Ten: Every Man Dies

**Chapter Ten: Every Man Dies. Not Every Man Really Lives**

Pain was the first thing Jim noticed as he surfaced from unconsciousness. His head was pounding to the point of nauseousness and his ribs were on fire every time he took a breath. He couldn't move his left arm, which was worrisome, and he noticed the distinct feel of bandages wrapped around his hips. Slowly blinking his eyes opened, he about vomited when the piercing glare of Sickbay's lights pierced through his skull. With a groan, he rolled to the side, breathing heavily through his nose to quiet his rolling stomach.

Within moments, Bones and his crew of nurses surrounded the captain, turning to lay him back as McCoy checked his vitals with his tricorder. Jim was in so much pain, he barely noticed the administration of the hypospray until he felt the cooling sensations of the pain reliever flood his system. With a sigh, he regarded his friends saying, "Thanks for that."

"Anytime, Jim. You gave us a hell of a scare before," McCoy said in-between readouts.

"What happened?" Jim groaned as he levied himself into a sitting position, the pain in his ribs making a protest over the medication.

"Take it easy, kid," McCoy admonished, placing his hand on Jim's shoulder to stop him from moving any further. "You were about blown into the next star system a few hours ago. You need to give the regeneration cycle a chance before you go gallivanting off."

Jim shook his head, the cobwebs of his memory not clearing as fast as he would have liked. He remembered being on the bridge, and something important had happened. Starfleet ordered the _Enterprise_ to pursue – pursue what? Jim sat there, confused as McCoy completed his scans. What was he supposed to be doing? He was sitting in his captain's chair as Spock told him of the casualties and the damages. Why were there damages? There were explosions, like the one near his chair that rippled across the ship. But he wasn't on the bridge when the first wave struck. He was in quarters. The women's quarters. _Charlie._ Like a giant movie reel, the last twelve hours flooded back into Jim's head in rapid succession, from the gym, to deck six and then the bridge. All of his memories returned, and with them the pain of loss. Charlie. That bastard took Charlie.

"Bones, he took her. He took Charlie. I need to get to the bridge! I need to find her!" Jim spouted off quickly, trying to rise off the biobed, his pain only in the back of his mind as his determination set in.

"Woah, woah, hold it, Jim," McCoy ordered, presenting a firm wall to prevent the captain from moving further and re-injuring himself. "I know. I know, man, but you can't help her in the state you're in. Spock has the bridge and he's doing all he can."

"You don't understand, I need to get her back," Jim ranted. "She left to save us, to save the ship. She shouldn't have had to make that decision."

"And we're going to get her," Bones replied like he was speaking to a rather thick child. "But you are doing Charlie no favors by not letting the regeneration cycle work. You have three broken ribs, a broken arm, severe burns to your lower back, and a pretty nasty concussion. You need to heal, Jim. And as your CMO, you are not cleared for duty at the moment. The green-blooded hobgoblin's on it."

Jim glared at McCoy, the last bit a low blow and he knew it. "I promised, Bones. I promised to bring her back."

McCoy stared into Jim's eye for a moment before he sighed, running a hand down his face. "Okay, I can't believe I'm agreeing to this, but I like the spitfire. Twelve hours. Give me twelve hours to get you as patched up as I can, and then you can fly off into the universe in search of her, alright?"

Jim considered the doctor's offer carefully. His desire to rush headlong into the fight was overpowering his rational side. However, McCoy's offer was fair and he did have a point. He wanted to make Sagan suffer for damaging his ship, killing his crew, and most of all for taking Charlie.

"Deal, but I need to speak to Spock as soon as possible, Bones."

"I'll get him. Let's just run through a cycle and I'll comm him."

Two hours later, the whole command team was in Sickbay, grouped around the bed of their injured captain. The blast on the bridge, while destructive, had luckily only severely injured the captain, the rest of the team avoiding the largest of the blast. Sulu and Chekov had some small cuts from flying debris, but other than a few other minor burns the rest were unscathed.

"What have you learned, Spock," Jim asked, reigning control even from the medical bed.

Reading from a PADD, the Vulcan said, "Dr. Robert Sagan was a professor of quantum mechanics at MIT before he became Assistant Director of Physics and Temporal Mechanics at CALTECH. He has been a guest lecturer at several prominent universities around the Federation, including the Vulcan Science Academy before its destruction. He led the board on 'Time Travel and Its Affects' after the Nero incident at Starfleet, as well as sponsoring several up and coming high profile minds for temporal reconstruction from around the Quadrant."

"Temporal reconstruction?" Sulu questioned.

"Yes. It's a new theory that Time Travel capabilities can be used as a function to alter the course of specific events as well as possibly return previously extinct species of flora and fauna to M-class planets. In theory it can transport personnel to distant dimensions in order to understand a wide variety of social, cultural, and political attitudes, which later can be implemented in First Contact Missions. And there is a possible medical benefit from the reemergence of healing flora previously unexamined."

"In a sense, it can be a do-over button?" Jim said.

"It can have that capability," Spock agreed. "There are several ethical and moral issues with the technology however, highlighted especially by the example of our altered universe. It has yet to find a large enough sponsor to develop the necessary research."

"So why did he need Charlie?" Uhura questioned as she leaned against the wall. "Why go back in time to bring her and the others to our timeline? How did he even do that?"

"As of yet I do not know," Spock said. "There is no correlation between the women and Dr. Sagan."

"Other than the fact that he kidnapped Charlie under our noses," Jim gruffly interjected.

"I cannot determine what his motive is. It appears illogical to travel so distantly for one person."

"One person?" Sulu inquired. "But weren't there three of them."

"Yea, but all he wanted was Charlie," Jim explained.

"Miss Aldridge and Miss Turner explained the situation when Dr. Sagan appeared," Spock said. "His plan was to only bring her into our universe, however, due to the close proximity of the other women, they too were sent here. Dr. Sagan seemed to imply that their appearance disrupted his calculations, landing them on Nimbus III, and not his ship."

"Yea about that, where was his ship anyway?" Sulu added. "We scanned everything within sensor range when the intruder alerts went off, and there was nothing. No ship or vessel of any kind."

"Ze ship may 'ave been cloaked," Chekov spoke up. "Ze telemetry of ze transporter signal indicated a close wessel, although we could not see it."

"Great, so either the good doctor is dealing with Klingons or Romulans," McCoy snapped. "Or he happened to commandeer a cloaking device and didn't share with the rest of us."

"That would explain the apparent lack of information from all the other attacks," Spock said, and Jim could almost see the gears turning in his head. "However, neither the Klingons or the Romulans have the capabilities to transport or attack while cloaked."

Everyone sat in silence for a moment, trying to think of how Dr. Sagan could have beamed aboard. "If Sagan was able to go back in time to get Charlie, is possible that he traveled _forward_ to get the advanced technology?" Jim questioned. "I mean it's possible to do anything while cloaked, there just isn't the technology for it yet."

"That is a possibility," Spock agreed. "If he was able to break the time barrier, he could have travelled to any moment in time, forward or back."

"Okay, so you're saying some crazy time doctor has a futuristic starship that can 'seek and destroy' without ever revealing itself," McCoy grumbled. "Well, I'm going to sleep well tonight."

"That still doesn't answer _why_ he needed Charlie," Jim interjected, sending a glare at McCoy. "Why bother going through the effort?"

"Unless there is something he needs that only she can provide," Sulu theorized.

"Yea, like what?" Uhura argued. "It's not like any of them are physics geniuses."

"No, Mister Sulu has a valid argument," Spock interjected. "Dr. Sagan attacked the other ships trying to find Miss Noland. He would not have completed such an action if he did not specifically need her for a reason. Otherwise, his actions would appear illogical."

"So what did he want?" McCoy voiced.

"At this moment, I am not sure."

"Okay, let's think about this," Jim broadcasted, wincing slightly as he adjusted his position. Although the regeneration cycle has helped heal his arm and head, his ribs were still killing him. "What is it that Charlie has that Sagan cannot get from anywhere else?"

"I don't know, Jim, you're the one who saw her the most," McCoy pointed out, making Jim surprising blush at his insinuation.

"Shut it, Bones."

"I'm just saying. You spent a lot of evenings with her. Maybe you picked up on something."

"Or picked up something," Uhura joked. Jim only glared at his communication officer until something clicked.

"That's it," Jim breathed. "Uhura, you're a genius."

"Jim?" McCoy asked.

"Her, he needed _her._"

"I think we got that."

"No, no what I mean is this," Jim said slapping his arm. "Her. Either her blood, or DNA, something like that. Something _in_ her."

"Why would he need that?" McCoy asked shocked.

"I have a hypothesis," Spock spoke up. "But I need to research further before I am confident in my theory. Permission to be dismissed, Captain."

"Yes please, go, Spock."

The Vulcan nodded, before turning on his heel and exiting the sickbay.

"Okay, well not rain on your parade, Jim," McCoy began. "But even if we know _why_ Sagan took her, we don't know _where_ they're headed."

Jim sighed, resting his head back against the pillow. That was true. He still had no idea where Sagan and Charlie were, or where they were going.

"We think we might be able to determine that, Captain," Sulu voiced, pointing to himself and Chekov. "If we know we're looking for a cloaked vessel, we might be able to pick up an ionized trail. It'll be faint, and it won't lead us to them, but we'll know the general direction."

"Go then, get started," Jim said.

"Actually it's best if we end this little pow-wow," McCoy interjected. "I still have you in here for another nine hours and I'm going to make them count."

With a sigh, Jim nodded, dismissing Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov. Scotty was still working on the repairs trying to bring warp back online. As he laid back against the bed while McCoy worked on his injuries, Jim couldn't stop replaying the desperate look in Charlie's eyes as she stepped toward Sagan. She may been saving him and his crew, but he still owed her for everything she had done for him. She had opened him up for something he never thought possible. _Don't worry, Charlie. I'll find you. I will always find you._

* * *

Charlie did not know how much time had passed as she lay on the uncomfortably hard metal slab. The buzzing white noise of the ship's engines and the semi darkness of her prison cell made each hour lap onto the other with no end to the isolation. She had spent the first hour pounding against the impenetrable metal door, throwing as many curses and threats as she could until she felt the inevitable flash of pain in her hands and her throat. She curled into a ball by the entrance, the tears of frustration and defeat rolling down her cheeks as her body fought against the uncontrollable panic gripping her heart in a painful clasp. What were they going to do to her? Would they kill her? Torture her? All manner of scenarios were rolling across her mind with nothing in her environment helping to tune out the terrible thoughts.

She finally moved to the slab, her limps protesting painfully from the hours of inaction. However, the pain was a welcome relief, letting her mind focus on something than her own imagination. The dim light in the cell allowed her to see the darkness of blood on her hands from the split skin, the throbbing becoming more prominent as time went on. Her head was also pulsing with pain, her raised blood pressure from the last few hours creating a terrible migraine and she was thankful for the darkness of the room.

She tried to run water through the tap on the sink, but after several twists, nothing but black sludge spewed out and, disgusted, she turned off the sink with a huff. She had no choice but to allow the blood to dry on her hands, stretching her finger painfully to keep the skin from tightening. She wrapped the thin blanket around her shoulders when the chills began, and Charlie vaguely worried if she was succumbing to shock.

Trying to breathe soothingly through her nose and mouth, she was able to bring herself under some semblance of control. If she was to survive this, she had to think straight and calm. She'd given in to her emotions, and now that it was out of her system she needed to devise a plan of action. She didn't know if the _Enterprise_ was operational, or if they even knew where to look for her. A lump formed in her throat as she thought of the explosions that erupted across the hull, but she pushed the feeling aside. She could not and would not give in to despair. She had to think positively. She was going to get off the Klingon ship and find a way back to Kate, Philippa, and especially to Jim.

She was surprised by the strength of her feeling for the man, something she hadn't evaluated while she was on his ship. She was too focused on her research, and the welfare of her friends to give the captain more than a cursory thought. She knew that he calmed her and helped her think clearly, but now that she had an abundance of time on her hands, she carefully reviewed her interactions with him over the last few weeks. The last hour they spent in the gym especially bringing welcomed warmth to her cheeks and a stutter to her heartbeat. He had almost kissed her, and she was more than willing to allow it.

She was not a novice when it came to men, but being the daughter of a high-ranking officer in the Air Force made the dating scene a bit cumbersome. Boys in high school were terrified of her family; their military reputation speaking for itself, and once she was at university for her undergrad, she was too focused on her studies to care much about dating. Sure, she had a few boyfriends, but none lasted longer than a year, and she was fine with that.

Her father did try to throw all sorts of officers in her direction, inviting them to dinner with her family anytime she was home for the weekend. It finally ended in a very heated argument between the two of them when she confronted him about it. He wasn't pleased to be undermined by his own child, and she was far past the point of caring. She did not return home for three months after that last argument.

When she moved to England, she wasn't against the chance at love, but it never presented itself to her. She knew she was attractive by societal standards, but she wanted someone who could keep up with her intellectually without patronizing her. She wanted someone who was adventurous like her, who understood that some emotions were not easy for her to convey, and who appreciated she was her own woman; not a puppet or potential Stepford wife.

When she thought of all of their conversations, and their interactions, Charlie was startled to realize that Jim was everything she wanted. He was easy to debate with, and never used his intellect against her when she plainly did not understand something. He was patient in his explanations, not treating her like a child but as an equal. He learned her passions were in medieval conflict archaeology, debating with her the evidence from the battle of Bosworth verse Agincourt in historical significance. He never berated her for refusing to be open with him emotionally, allowing her to direct the conversation away when she was uncomfortable. Probably the most significant trait of all was his obvious understanding of her protectiveness of Kate and Philippa. As captain, he was responsible for the welfare of over five hundred individuals, and while she only had two, he did not seem to see the difference. Responsibility was responsibility, and he tried to help her as much as he could.

Jim also had the remarkable ability of influencing Charlie to consider herself, even when she put up as many roadblocks to the idea as possible. She never liked thinking of herself when there were others who needed her. Obviously a family trait from her family, but Jim had a way of directing her to consider her own welfare; like slyly mentioning the always-empty gym on deck twelve. It was if he could read what she needed and provided it for her without smothering or criticizing her. It was nice to have someone consider what _she_ wanted, even if Charlie refused to do it herself.

She was astonished that she never noticed all the little things he had done, and she began to wonder if she had achieved the same for him. Was she able to help him as he helped her? Was she the cause for his breath to catch and his heart to pound? She was no math whiz, nor could handle an annoying delegation of Andorians. She was just her, a woman who would sacrifice everything for the greater good and who always tried to do the right thing. As she sat in her cell, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, she hoped he knew how much he meant to her. Even though she knew the Jim Kirk from the Original Series was a lone bachelor with his crew as his family, something told her the Jim Kirk she met was different. She wasn't aware how, but some instinct had her believing it.

Lost in her thoughts, Charlie barely perceived the sound of heavy footsteps outside her door. With a start, the doors to her jail opened, the brighter lights from the corridor blinding her momentarily from both light and pain. She hissed as she brought her hand up to her eyes, blocking as much of the brightness as she could while a lone Klingon entered. He had nowhere the fierceness or girth of the Captain, but he was still an impressive figure. He disdainfully regarded her on her bed, a look of disgust crossing his features before he spoke,

"Dr. Sagan kindly requests your presence in his quarters for dinner."

Charlie scowled at the Klingon. While she was relieved that she was not forgotten, she was still not thrilled about the situation.

"You can tell Sagan he can go screw himself," she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. She noticed the Klingon clench his teeth, the muscles in in jaw flexing.

"He said you'd say as much," the Klingon growled. "He also said that if you refused his gracious invitation that you would eat in the mess with the crew." The Klingon grinned; obviously pleased by the wide-eyed stare Charlie began to sport. _Well shit,_ she thought. With a huff, she stood, gesturing to the Klingon to lead the way while clenching her teeth in agitation.

The alien led her through the corridors and down a turbolift, the configuration of the Bird-of-Prey even more confusing than the _Enterprise_. After a few minutes, the pair stopped in front of a set of doors on the starboard side. The Klingon hit a button before the doors slid apart to admit them. Inside, the room was much brighter than anywhere else on the ship. There were scores along the walls marking where several rooms were converged to make one large great room, while two doors on one wall lead off to the unknown. Inside the great room a large, rectangle table sat under a set of small windows looking out into the black, laden down with many different Terran dishes. The moment she stepped in, Charlie smelled the delicious aroma of baked chicken, lamb, and pork, her mouth watering almost painfully by the assault. There was a bowl of mashed potatoes, another of orange sweet potatoes, with various vegetable dishes.

Along with the table, a group of couches and chairs sat in a depression off to the right, creating a surprisingly comfortable looking arrangement in a ship that cared little for comfort. The Klingon shoved Charlie roughly when she just stood in the entrance, taking in the sight of a room so completely different from her own little cell. Glaring over her shoulder, she walked a little further, looking around the seemingly empty room as she subconsciously picked at the dried blood on her hands.

Suddenly, one of the doors opened, revealing Dr. Sagan. He had changed from his dark robe into a pair of black slacks, a regular dark blue shirt with a lighter blue short robe tied over it.

"Ahh, so good you could make it, Miss Noland," he said noticing her presence.

"Wasn't given much of choice," she retorted bitterly.

"You could have attended the evening meal in the mess," he replied with an icy smile as he walked toward the woman. "You _chose_ to come here instead." With a nod to the Klingon, the alien spun on his heel and exited, leaving the two humans alone. "Would you care to sit?" Sagan asked gesturing to the table. "I replicated some very good meals from back on Earth. Much better than that Klingon slop they serve."

"What game are you playing?" Charlie challenged, not moving a muscle. She was pleased to see a muscle twitch under Sagan's beard, an indication she was beginning to irritate him. _Good._

"Merely inviting my guest for a simple meal. No harm in that."

"I have a feeling nothing about you is harmless," Charlie spat. "And I'm not your guest. I'm a prisoner."

Sagan shrugged. "View it as you will, but I am not going to let this delicious feast go to waste. Stand there all night if you want, makes no difference to me."

Sagan walked over and sat at the head of the table, pulling chicken, mashed potatoes and a vegetable on his plate. Charlie ground her teeth in frustration, the growling from her traitorous stomach telling everyone in the room just how hungry she was. She was in a power struggle though. Sagan's offer of a friendly meal was anything but, and until Charlie knew what he was getting at, she would stubbornly stand there until the universe ended. She would not accept hospitality from that man, no matter how hungry she was.

After an hour, Charlie began to shake, the excursions from earlier affecting her ability to stand while her head pounded uncontrollably. She pursed her lips together; willing herself to calm, but all she did was shake worse.

With a sigh, Sagan stood and walked over to Charlie, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the table where she fell onto a chair, unable to fight back.

"Sit, damn it. You're about to pass out," he snapped as he resumed his seat next to her. She righted herself, eyeing the food hungrily, but not letting herself reach for the closest dish. "You are the most stubborn woman I have come across," Sagan added. "Please, eat. It's not poisoned, I can assure you. I have no reason to kill you." _Yet_, hung condescendingly in the air unsaid.

Finally giving in to weakness, and arguing that she can't stand up against Sagan if she didn't keep up her strength, Charlie quickly loaded her plate and dove in as if she hadn't eaten in days. The meat was tender and juicy, the vegetables crisp. She was in heaven and began to relax as warmth spread out into limbs, but only slightly. After her plate was clean, and she sat back with a satisfying sigh, she glanced over at a smiling Sagan, predatorily grinning like a cat with a mouse as he sipped his wine.

"Satisfied?"

"I'd be more satisfied if I knew what was going on," Charlie said as she placed her napkin over the plate and crossed her arms. "Where are we going?"

"An outpost in the Boradis system at the edge of Federation space and Klingon territory," Sagan replied easily, immediately putting Charlie on guard. She needed to get as much information as she could, but she would have to be subtle about how to manipulate Sagan into telling her.

"How far on the edge?" she continued.

"Far enough."

"Alright, fine. What ship is this?"

"This is the _Mor'Tah,_ a Klingon Bird-of-Prey and one of the fiercest ships in their fleet," Sagan beamed as if the ship were his own.

"I will agree it's pretty impressive," Charlie acknowledged with a small nod, hardly impressed by the rusted metal that surrounded her. "I didn't know the Klingon's gained the ability to transport when cloaked, especially with that weird water shield thing you did. I thought that was impossible in this day and age."

"Pity you aren't more inventive, Miss Noland. Have you not considered that with my ability to travel to your time that I could not visit others?"

"So you what, travelled _forward_ for this hunk of metal?"

"Of course not. This ship is of this era, but the technology is not. I had to hardwire the new technology into her components," Sagan gloated. "While her hull is banal, the rest of her is a testament of engineering prowess."

"So how'd you do it?" Charlie pressed. "How did you bring me and my friends here, and apparently your little ship's 'prowess'? Everything I've researched so far said it was impossible."

"One of my greatest accomplishments," Sagan smirked with pride as he swallowed the rest of his wine.

"So how'd you do it?" Charlie urged.

Sagan considered the woman for a moment, determining whether the information he provided could be used against him. Seeing no way in which it could, he decided to feed her curiosity, but only just.

"Have you heard of Red Matter?" he asked.

Charlie's head cocked to side as she considered the question. "Yes," she responded cautiously. "It was the substance used to bring a Romulan from the future to this universe and it destroyed Vulcan by creating a black hole."

Sagan nodded, "That is correct. It was a mystery element created in the future and brought to this present with amazingly destructive capabilities."

"But it was destroyed," Charlie added. "The _Enterprise_ used it to destroy Nero and _Narada._"

"_Some_ of it was destroyed," Sagan said. Noticing the shocked look on Charlie's face he continued, "I was on the science vessel sent to the black hole in order to study its properties. As a temporal specialist, I wanted to see how that black hole differed from the others and whether it may be able to create a controllable tunnel through time. You see, I was the one who studied the same anomaly near the _Kelvin _incident twenty-five years previous. When we reached the location, my scans were able to pick up minuet traces of the element, and by developing a special device, I was successful in siphoning the material into a collection tank."

"That wasn't mentioned in the reports I read," Charlie said slowly.

"No one knew I found the traces."

"Well that's a bit greedy," Charlie admonished.

Sagan merely shrugged nonchalantly. "The fools at Starfleet wouldn't know what to with it if they had it. They would only lock it away as a dangerous weapon, and it was the first substance known to allow for time travel, even if it was accidental."

"So you took it for scientific study, then," Charlie said skeptically. "For the good of humanity, right?"

"Of course," Sagan responded.

"Why do I have a hard time believing that?"

"Because you only see the world in black and white, Miss Noland. There are whole worlds in grey you are missing out in."

Charlie smirked, clearly unimpressed. "You still haven't said how you got me here. If you used Red Matter, Earth would be a giant black hole right now."

"That's because I refined it," Sagan declared.

"You refined it?"

"Red Matter is very volatile and unstable. According to the reports I read, it wasn't even fully processed before it was needed in the super nova that will destroy Romulus. The amount I siphoned was enough to refine a sample to a more stable counterpart that can be manipulated."

"How did you refine it?" Charlie asked. She hated to admit it, but she was rather intrigued.

"That, my dear, is classified," Sagan smirked.

Charlie huffed, slightly frustrated. "Okay, fine, we'll come back to that. So this refined Red Matter. That's what brought me here."

"In essence, yes," Sagan agreed. "In its more stable form, the user has the control to decide when and where a mass can be transported though both space and time. It's rather revolutionary."

"Then why do you need me?" Charlie pushed. "You obviously have everything figured out, why go back in time to get me?"

"That information, my dear, will come when we reach our destination. Now, story time is over. I think it's time for bed." Sagan stood, pulling out a communique calling for her Klingon escort. Charlie stood as well, her anger back in check now that she had her energy resupplied.

"Whatever you think, whatever you have planned, you're going to lose," Charlie declared firmly.

"Oh you think so?" Sagan asked a deadly coldness to his tone.

"Yes, because I know this universe," Charlie proclaimed. "And it is black and white. Good always wins. Always."

As she finished, the Klingon from before walked in, waiting for Charlie near the door.

"We'll see, Miss Noland," Sagan called after her. "We will see."


	11. Chapter Eleven: Keep Your Friends Close

**Chapter Eleven: Keep Your Friends Close, But Your Enemies Closer**

Kate and Philippa ate in silence in the Mess, neither woman wanting to disrupt the little bit of peace they had finally gained. It had been two days since Dr. Sagan kidnapped Charlie and both women were wondering when Captain Kirk was going to rescue her. They knew he had been injured in the blasts that rocked the starship, but the pair had seen him the next day, a little worse for wear but obviously doing his job. Philippa had wanted to march straight up and demand to know what his plan was to get Charlie back; however, Kate wisely pointed out that it had only been twenty-four hours. It was not as if they could come up with a plan of action instantly.

Now that two days had passed, even Kate was becoming slightly agitated. She really did not want to bother such an important officer, but Charlie had done everything she could to help her and Philippa; it was time they returned the favor. Both Kate and Philippa were torn with anxiety, terrified for Charlie and struggling to hope that she would come back. The man they encountered was unlike anyone either woman had come in contact with before in their lives, and neither knew how to handle the situation they found themselves in. Charlie was always the one with the answers and the plan, but now that she was gone, Kate and Philippa were having to rely on each other and themselves.

Seeing both the Captain and Commander Spock enter into the cafeteria, Kate quickly nudged Philippa, nodding her head in the direction of the two men. Pursing her lips, Philippa gave a curt nod and quickly stood- a mission evident in her blue eyes. Kate followed as the blonde-haired woman made a beeline toward the commanding officers.

"Captain Kirk, may I please speak to you?" Philippa said as soon as she was by his side.

Jim turned, surprised to see Philippa behind him, with Kate standing a little behind her. Looking to his First Officer who merely raised a brow, Jim turned back to the women, crossing his arms and saying, "Sure. What's on your mind?"

"We — that is Kate and I — are wondering when you're going to get Charlie? Or if you even have a plan to get her. It's been two days."

Jim just stared at the Brits for a moment before he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let me get my lunch and I'll meet you at your table, alright? We can talk there."

The women looked to each other before they nodded and returned to their seats.

"It is not illogical that they are curious, Jim," Spock mentioned as he and the captain continued down the lunch line.

"No, I know," Jim sighed. "I was just hoping to have more to tell them before they came asking."

"We have a working theory on the reasons behind Dr. Sagan's interest in their friend. And Mister Sulu and Mister Chekov have narrowed down the direction of the ionized trail."

"Yea, toward Klingon space," Jim added bitterly.

He was not upset by the work his helmsman and navigator had completed. In fact, after only five hours from leaving sickbay they had isolated and analyzed the trail found off their port side nacelles. The only issue was it headed toward the Federation and Klingon Neutral zone at the far end of the Beta Quadrant. There were at least three deep space starbases and four large planetary systems for them to search, which could take weeks if they wanted to be thorough. And that was on the assumption that Dr. Sagan kept Charlie in Federation space. If their destination was within the Klingon territory, Jim didn't think even he could get her back there.

Gathering his tray, both Jim and Spock turned, finding the booth Kate and Philippa were occupying on the far side of the room. They made their way over, sliding in across from the worried women.

"So what's your plan?" Philippa didn't even wait for the men to be settled.

"Impatient?" Jim asked. He was surprised to see Philippa's blue eyes harden against his.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I am. Charlie did everything she could for me and Kate, and now when she needs _us_, I expect to be there for her." Her conviction caused a knot to form in Kirk's stomach. It was the same conviction Charlie had when she was onboard, and he should kick himself for his calloused response. He was just as impatient as they were.

"You're right, forgive me," he apologized. "We're working on a few theories, but it's difficult right now."

"Why is it so difficult?" Kate asked, her calm demeanor similar to the Vulcan sitting in front of her.

"We believe your friend was taken onboard a Klingon ship," Spock said. "Klingons have the capability of cloaking their vessels, effectively rendering them invisible to our sensors. It took several hours to isolate the ionized trial they left behind and even longer to judge the general direction. We do not know more beyond that at the moment."

"So you don't know where they are going?" Kate continued, her stomach dropping in despair.

"Not—"

"We will," Jim interrupted, sending a pointed look toward the Vulcan. "We've obtained significant information on Dr. Sagan and what he was working on. We think we know why he took Charlie."

"Which is?" Philippa prodded.

"It appears he is in need of her molecular biology," Spock said. "For what purpose, I have yet to develop an appropriate hypothesis."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Kate questioned, her eyes pleading with both Spock and Jim. Sitting around worrying was absolutely torturing both women.

Jim looked to Spock, not sure what to tell them. The Vulcan showed his customary facial expression back, indicating it was for the captain to decide.

"Well, maybe one of you can help Mister Spock go through his mountain of research?"

"I can do that," Kate quickly spoke. "I had to help my step-dad with this huge project he was working on. I'm really good at organizing and categorizing anything you need me to."

Spock sent Jim his version of a glare, but told Kate, "That would be satisfactory."

"What can I do?" Philippa interjected.

Jim sighed as he thought. There was not much Philippa could do for him on the Bridge, most of duties for the command crew only. However, there was a possibility she could help his yeoman, who at the moment was handling several of his minor obligations while he focused on the recovery of Sagan and Charlie for Starfleet. "I think my yeoman could use some help," Jim told Philippa. "I've put a bit on her; she might like to have some backup and it'll get her out of my hair."

"I'd be more than happy to help," Philippa said, pleased to have something to do. They had now spent a month on the _Enterprise_, and both women were fast becoming bored with the little amount of work they had.

"Good, I'll talk to Janice for you," Jim said. "This will keep you both in the loop, too. So you both know what's going on."

Kate and Philippa gave Jim dazzling smiles, some of their biggest worry stemming from the lack of information. While it was unusual for a captain to involve civilians as Jim was, he knew that these women were as much a part of the issue as Charlie was. It was what she would have wanted, and that gave him the idea.

Both women left after that, agreeing to meet the men at the beginning of Alpha shift on the Bridge. Once they were gone, Spock said, "I am not sure it is wise to include them, Jim. They are both severely compromised emotionally."

"I know, Spock," Jim agreed. "But I know how hard it is to just sit and wait. Even if it's just paperwork, they feel included and that will go a long way to keeping them happy. I think Charlie would have wanted that."

Spock merely stared, his mind beginning to connect some fascinating dots.

* * *

The next morning, Kate and Philippa were anxiously awaiting the arrival for Jim and Spock, speaking quietly between each other trying not to disturb the crew already present. Sulu and Chekov were curious why the women were on the Bridge, but they did not vocalize their confusion. Spock had already informed Uhura, and she was more than happy to chat with the women while they waited. Uhura was interested in their past, and asked a variety of questions of their lives back in England. While Uhura wasn't sure giving the pair tasks on the _Enterprise_ was a good idea, she understood their need for productivity. She didn't just understand the spoken word, but body language as well. As excited as they were to help the bridge crew, Uhura could see the underlining tension in their frames, and the tightness around their eyes. They were worried for Charlie, and Uhura could not blame them.

Finally, Spock and Jim arrived on the Bridge, along with Jim's yeoman Janice Rand, an older blonde woman already affiliated with Kate and Philippa. She had been very helpful when they were permitted to leave sickbay, and she had provided them with every necessity they required. Smiling, Janice followed behind Kirk and Spock as they approached the women.

"Good morning, Ladies," Kirk said and they politely answered back. "Kate, if you could follow Mister Spock, he'll have you get started." Kate nodded and hurried behind the Vulcan as he led her over to his station, quietly informing her of his parameters. Kirk then turned and regarded Philippa, who was blushing slightly under his gaze. "Philippa, you've met my Yeoman, Janice, right?"

"Yes," Philippa answered. "She's very helpful to us. It's good to see you again, Ms. Rand."

"You too, Philippa, and please call me Janice. The Captain has informed me you'll be helping me out for a while," Janice smiled, a bit of sympathy in her eyes.

Philippa hesitantly returned her smile. "Yes. I've done a bit of reception work at my dad's office, so I can help you with any of that."

Janice laughed and said, "Oh there's plenty to be done. Come with me and I'll get you started."

The two women headed into Jim's private office as he headed to his command chair. Once inside, Kirk turned to Sulu and said, "Status, Mister Sulu."

"No change, Captain," the navigator replied. "I can still detect the trail, but it continues to indicate a path toward Klingon territory."

"Damn," Kirk swore softly.

"Mr. Scott has gotten the warpcore back online, but I'm not sure I'll be able to keep track of the trail if we go to warp."

Kirk sighed, flexing his fist. Warp would make it quicker to get to Charlie and Sagan, but they needed the trail to follow where they went. It was a damn Catch-22. "Understood. Get us going as fast as you can without losing the trail."

"Aye, Captain."

His hand was beginning to really bother him. Unable to sleep the night before, he had thoroughly abused himself in the gym on deck sixteen— the punching bag taking the brunt of his frustration. It was thirty-six hours since Sagan had hopped aboard the _Enterprise_ and Jim's frustration was growing every hour they were _not_ in pursuit. His crew was working as hard as they could and he was grateful. They seemed to understand that this was not just a search-and-rescue as Starfleet had been told. No, this was now personal for the captain and in many ways for the crew. Someone had beamed aboard their ship and taken an innocent civilian without a care. While the crew did not have as much interaction with Kate, Charlie or Philippa, it was the principle of the matter. They were a solid unit, and when one person was in trouble, they all were.

Several hours passed, Kirk's anger growing each passing minute. Dammit, he was not someone who could sit and wait. He needed action, to do _something._ After the sixth pass by Spock's station where Kate was diligently arranging the research and typing away small summaries of long articles, Spock suggested he retire to Ready Room. There he could pace without putting more stress on himself or more importantly the crew. With a nod and a promise to get him if _anything_ came up, Kirk entered his ready room, where Janice and Philippa had assiduously organized several stacks of PADDs.

"Captain, it's good you're here," Janice said, noticing his presence. Standing up from her desk chair, she gestured to the first stack. "Here are the requisition forms for you to review and approve, and here," he gestured to another, larger stack, "Are the crew evaluation forms. We're two weeks late, but I think regarding the circumstances, Starfleet understands."

"You seemed to have gotten a bit done," Kirk commented dryly as he walked over and took the first stack.

"Many hands make light work," Janice shrugged. "And Philippa had an ingenious assembly line going that organizing everything was done faster than ever."

Philippa flushed at the praise, sending a sheepish look toward the captain who smiled kindly. The three continued to work silent for another hour before Janice stood and stretched. "I'm going to go get the new timetables from the department heads. I'll be back in a bit."

She hurried through the doors on the bridge, leaving Philippa and Jim alone. Philippa went back to her task, her cheeks heating up the longer the now awkward silence continued. Finally sighing in annoyance, she spun around on her chair, addressing the captain.

"Captain Kirk, how long do you think it'll be until we get to Charlie?"

Kirk sighed, rubbing his eyes as he finished the signing off the last form. "I'm not sure, Philippa. We're doing all we can."

Looking down into her lap, Philippa exhaled slowly. "I know. I just can't imagine what they're doing to her and –"

"Stop," Kirk interrupted. "You can't think like that. It only makes it worse."

"I can't stop thinking about it though," Philippa argued, looking back up. "When he just showed up out of nowhere, and was demanding to see Charlie, he just . . . he seemed like he would do _anything_ to get her. And then when we told him we didn't know where she was, and he started yelling at me and Kate for ruining his plan, I couldn't stop thinking I was going to die."

"That wouldn't have happened," Jim said forcefully.

"But it could have," Philippa argued. "And Charlie did what she always does. She never stops to think things through; she just rushes headlong if she feels someone's in trouble."

"I know a few people like that," Kirk smirked.

"I just want to save her," Philippa went on ignoring him. "I _need_ to save her."

Kirk sat there as he regarded Philippa, an interesting idea entering into his head. "You blame yourself, don't you?"

Philippa's round, blue eyes widened before she dropped them down shamefully, her accent thickening as she spoke. "If I hadn't gotten her so upset, maybe she would have been thinking clearly, and found another way than leaving with him. I was selfish and rude, and I never got to apologize."

"You can't blame yourself for the deranged motives of a psychopath," Jim asserted forcefully. "You had nothing to do with Sagan getting a hold of Charlie. If anything, her being out of your quarters may have saved her. It gave us time to get there, to hear what he was saying. _I'm_ the one who should be blamed. I let him kidnap someone off of my ship, and I was unable to stop it."

"But he shot you. What could you have done?"

"I don't know," Jim ground out, running a hand through his hair. "But I could have — _should have _— done something, anything. His damn ship on just on the port side, and we couldn't even see it to destroy it."

The pair lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by Philippa's random sniffling. Finally, she said, "I know you'll get her back, get us all home. Charlie has so much faith in you and your crew, and I do too."

Jim smiled, although there was not much feeling behind it. While Philippa had the ability to lean onto him for support and comfort, he was the one with the responsibility of the whole ship. He had his crew to support him, but in many ways, being a captain was a lonely job.

"Thanks, Philippa."

Just as the two returned to their work, Spock's voice filtered into the calm atmosphere.

"_Spock to Captain Kirk._"

"Yes, Spock," Jim answered.

"_It would be advisable to join Miss Aldridge and I on the Bridge. We feel we have uncovered something significant._"

"On my way," Kirk said, practically leaping out of his chair. "Come on, Philippa. You're coming too."

Both Jim and Philippa were on the Bridge in seconds, hurrying over to the station where an excited human and stoic Vulcan stood waiting.

"What have you found, Commander?" Jim asked the minute he was within speaking distance, bounding up the stairs.

"We believe we have possibly located the reasoning behind Dr. Sagan's interest in Miss Noland."

"Which is?" Kirk asked impatiently.

"Well, when I was grouping together the information on Dr. Sagan," Kate began, spilling out her words in a rush. "I noticed he seemed to mentor a lot of young physicists. Every year he would take on one or two, and by the next year, they were replaced. He was very vocal in praising his students, going so far as to provide them with jobs and research positions all over the place. He held this pattern for ten or so years."

"So what's the big deal?" Philippa interjected. "He liked to mentor students. He was a professor, wasn't he?"

"Yes, but that's not caught my attention," Kate said. "He stopped taking on students about eight years ago. The last student he sponsored was, at the time, a master's student who went on to gain his doctorate under Sagan."

"Alright, but what's so special about him?" Philippa asked.

"His name was Edward Noland-Spear."

"You don't think a student having the same last name as Charlie is a coincidence, do you?" Jim said, his mouth firming into a hard line.

"I do not feel it is coincidental, Captain," Spock said shaking his head. "Once Miss Aldridge alerted me to the similar surname, I was able to link back Dr. Noland-Spear's family records to that of a General Bryan Douglass Noland of the former United States Army, born January 22, 1985."

"Charlie's brother," Philippa said.

"It would appear so," the Vulcan agreed.

"Similar DNA, just like I thought," Jim nodded. "But why not take her brother? He was obviously a direct descendent."

"I can only speculate, Jim," Spock said with as much of a Vulcan shrug as he could do. "But it is possible that his involvement in the military provided an unavoidable hindrance for Sagan to retrieve him. When Dr. Sagan went to the 21st century, General Noland was only a Major, but the rank indicates a heavy involvement on an active military base. The youngest Noland was also in a heavily secured location at the United States Air Force Academy in 2013. In fact, reading through the records of Miss Noland's family, it appears they all were involved in the military in one way or another."

"Accept for Charlie," Jim concluded.

"Yes, accept for her. She would have been the easiest target to locate and recover."

Jim flexed his fists, his energy for action heightening. "Alright, so know we know why she was picked. But what about this Dr. Noland-Spear? What does his file say about him?"

"That is the reason why I summoned you. Dr. Noland-Spear, who was a Lieutenant Commander in Starfleet, was a revolutionary physicist in quantum mechanics. He had piloted several test programs into deep space travel, and was rumored to have found a way to re-create Red Matter."

"Oh great, like we need that again," Jim growled.

"Indeed," Spock replied with no humor either. "He had patented several new formulas, none of which proved successful. He was also the inventor of a new security system which uses mitochondrial DNA as the access code."

"Let me guess, you need living DNA in order to unlock the information," Jim remarked.

"Yes. He was a brilliant mind in his field."

"You keep saying 'was'," Jim pointed out. "Where is he? What happened to him?"

"Dr. Noland was reported M.I.A. when the deep space research station he was assigned was attacked by Klingons several months ago. Everyone on the base made it to the escape shuttles, except for him. Starfleet sent an investigative team, but the station was too far damaged to search properly. They believe he was either captured by Klingons or killed."

Jim could practically feel the tension in the air. But then something in the way Spock continued to stare at him made something click in Jim's brain.

"This research station. Where is it?"

"The Boradis system."

Kirk about gave a whoop of delight. One of the star systems in the path of the ionized trail was the Boradis system. Spinning around, Kirk snapped out, "Sulu set a course. Maximum warp. Uhura, contact Starfleet and inform them of our destination. It couldn't hurt to have a bit of back up."

"Aye, Captain."

"Aye, Captain."

"How long until we reach the station, Lieutenant?" Jim asked his helmsman.

"Approximately five days, Captain."

"Damn," Kirk swore. "They already have three days on us."

"Jim, I am afraid I must apologize," Spock voiced. "I had been researching Dr. Noland-Spear with only the surname Spear. I did not connect him to Dr. Sagan or Miss Noland until Miss Aldridge noticed his full name among the list of former research students."

"Don't worry about it, Spock," Jim said, slapping the Vulcan on the shoulder. "The point is you've connected the dots. Now we just need to get there. As for you two," Jim said, bringing his attention to the two silent non-crew members. "You should be proud. Because of you, by next week we'll have Charlie back."

The women smiled, demonstrating the energy and excitement Jim could feel racing through his system. Now he could work, he had action. It was time to get to the station and get Charlie back. _I'm coming,_ he thought as he stared into space.


	12. Chapter Twelve: We All Go A Little Mad

**Chapter Twelve:** **We All Go a Little Mad Sometimes**

Charlie was going insane. There was no hope for it, she was slowly having a mental breakdown. She had been locked in her darkened prison cell for an innumerable number of days, alone and almost forgotten. She had no idea how long she had been in that tiny, insignificant room, each second blurred into minutes that blurred into hours. All she knew were random intervals when a Klingon would bring in a cup of water and some type of slop deemed food before subsequently leaving her to herself. No pleasantry was exchanged, nor even a word was spoken. She was going to lose it.

She already knew the room was ten steps by twelve steps, having walked it many times. It took the doors three seconds to open and three and a half to close. And if timed it right, she would be able to hit the first intersections of corridors before she would be caught. It was almost worth it. Almost.

She had no idea what Sagan was doing at that moment, and why he deemed she needed solitary confinement until they reach the Boradis system. She was replaying the conversation in her head since she appeared to have an infinite amount of time to think. So he had somehow found Red Matter in the area surrounding the black hole where the _Narada _was crushed, and was able to transform it into a controllable substance. That in itself was disturbing, but it didn't answer any other of her questions. How was he able to stabilize the Red Matter? How could no one have known he got the substance? Why the _hell_ did he need her?

All she knew was that if she could get her hands on the refined element, Charlie believed she found her ticket home. The trick was just getting it. Was it even stored on the ship? The more Charlie thought about, the more she concluded it couldn't be. Sagan was obviously very protective of it, so keeping it holed up in an undisclosed location was in his mind the best. If anything, the New Red Matter was located wherever they were going. If she found it, and was able to escape, it would open all sorts of new possibilities.

That's probably why the Klingons were involved. In the wrong hands, it could be a formidable weapon. Who wouldn't want the power to go back in time and eliminate an entire planet before it had a chance to develop. Charlie shot up off the bed, her adrenaline spiking by her epiphany. This wasn't just about getting home anymore. No, now it was about the whole Federation, and the billions lives living in it. Charlie began to panic then, realizing _how_ important the New Red Matter could play in the politics of this universe. If the Federation, hell if _Earth_ had the chance to survive, in the past and in the future, then she needed to get the New Red Matter and destroy it before the Klingons got their slimy hands on it, even if that meant she, Kate, and Philippa could never go home. She had promised to rescue her friends, and it would tear her up to see their utter despair that they couldn't get home, but there was so much more at stake now. _God, how did everything become so complicated,_ she thought as he head fell into her hands.

She began to hyperventilate, her panic rising with each shallow breath she tried to swallow. She was not a hero and had never desired to be one. Her brother and sister were the proud soldiers, the pride of her family. They had no problem stepping into the line of fire, and would relish the chance to play the savior. Yes, Charlie had protected her friends selflessly in the past, but that was because she was placed in that situation without a choice. Bryan and Rachel would go out of their way if they could.

Attempting to calm herself, Charlie leaned against the hard walls of the cell, a sob threatening to emerge. She would not cry, having already exhausted that action over the last few days. Slowly, numbness and exhaustions won out, Charlie wanting nothing more than to curl up and forget about the whole mess. She didn't want to have the responsibility of finding and destroying the Red Matter. She didn't even want the responsibility of Kate and Philippa, but it had been thrust upon her. She couldn't blame them, but she was just so _tired_.

Suddenly, the door to Charlie's prison opened, sending in the customary blast of light. She knew her sense of time was off, but it was strangely early for her dinner of slop; she hadn't even finished her lunch (or breakfast for that matter). A Klingon entered, but he didn't have a platter in his hand. Instead, he merely stared angrily at her, spitting out, "Come with me, Human."

"Where are we going?" She asked hesitantly, making no move to stand. Were they already at their destination? The thought alone caused a lump of fear to form in her throat.

"No questions," he spat as he reached over and grabbed her upper arm, hauling her to her feet. He proceeded to drag her into the corridor, his quick moves stunning Charlie for a moment. Her shock was quickly forgotten however, and she tried unsuccessfully to pull her arm out of his grasp. "Enough!" he shouted, shaking her slightly. His rattle forced Charlie to stop and he continued to haul her through the ship, going in a completely different direction than the last time she left her room.

After a few twists and turns, plus a turbolift ride, Charlie was dragged into a large open recreational room, similar in size and shape to the ones on the _Enterprise_. The only different is the array of sharp weapons on a hanger, and the larger areas with mats for sparring and fighting. Inside were a few dozen Klingons, some sparing, some standing around talking, but all ceased their activity when she entered the room. Charlie was confused and afraid as she Klingon appeared to glower at her. She was honestly confused as to the reason why she was dragged out of her prison and down to the rec room.

Before she could voice her confusion, the Klingon holding onto her arm thrust her onto one of the mats, causing her fall forward onto the floor. The Klingons around the room laughed, and Charlie had to physically clamp her teeth shut before she said something she'd regret. Pushing herself to her feet slowly, she glared around at the assembled group, her cheeks hot with indignation. She noticed they had formed a ring around her, heightening her confusion further.

One Klingon shouted something in his guttural language at her, and although she didn't speak a lick of Klingon, she knew by the second round of laugher that it was some sort of insult. Without thinking, she flipped the Klingon off, his face quickly morphing from amused to angry. He attempted to step toward the human, but as he did, the door to the rec room hissed opened and a loud shout from the Captain was heard. Quickly, all the Klingons turned and saluted their leader, banging their fists on their chests as he walked up to her. Charlie was interested to notice Sagan was trailing behind the large Klingon, an icy smirk gracing his features. Charlie backed away from the Captain as he moved closer only to be shoved towards him when she hit the edge of the circle.

"What the hell is going on?" she snapped, facing the two males. She tried to not show her fear, something she knew the Klingons would respect. She may not know the language of the Klingons, but she knew courage, honor, and loyalty were their most valued beliefs.

"You have committed _batlhHa' HoH_, Human," the Captain spoke as he glared down to her. "And while we cannot kill you to honor the dead," he shot Sagan and annoyed look, "we have the right to send them to _Sto-Vo-Kor _through beating you in battle."

Charlie's mouth dropped opened in shock. "Uh . . . what?" she asked turning to Sagan.

His smirk grew at her discomfort. "You have committed the act of 'dishonorable killing' by your actions on Nimbus III," he said. "Several of the crew here were witnesses, and while you should have been killed in a glorious battle to avenge the dead and give their spirits the honor to enter the Klingon Paradise of _Sto-Vo-Kor_, I have graciously negotiated that instead, each member from the houses of those you killed shall have the honor of battling you to first blood. If the world was as black and white as you believe, Miss Noland, you would already be dead."

Charlie could only stare at the smirking man, her mind blank from the implications of his statement. "You have got to be kidding me!" she shouted, glancing around at the eager faces of the Klingons surrounding her. "You are absolutely barking mad! These guys will kill me in a second!"

"I have been assured that will not happen," Sagan said, a hard look entering his eyes as he glanced up to the Captain.

"Yea, okay," she scoffed, glaring at the man. This was all about revenge! Sagan was telling Charlie she had no control, and that anything she used to argue with him would be turned against her. He had to prove that _he_ was the one who grant her mercy or cause her pain. After all, he had removed the explosives on the _Enterprise_ only to reinstate them because he felt she needed to be punished. It was a sick, little game to him.

Her heart was racing with adrenaline and fear as she considered the Klingons surrounding her. Yes, she had been able to defeat four on Nimbus III, but she had had the element of surprise. Here it would be one-on-one and her little five and a half foot frame barely came to the shoulders of the smallest Klingon. She did not stand a chance.

"Choose your weapon, Human," the Captain said, pointing to a shelf of weapons.

"What if I don't want to fight?" she snapped back. "Honor is precious to you, and is it not dishonorable to battle someone weaker than you?"

The Captain's eyes hardened and he quickly stepped up to Charlie, grabbing her arms as she tried to back away, lifting her painfully. "Do not speak to me of honor, P'Tok. You attacked and killed my kin from behind, without the honor of a death in battle. Your weakness does not exempt you from your crime." He quickly dropped her, and she stumbled and fell back. "Pick your weapon."

Charlie could only stare dumbfounded, trying vainly to understand what the hell just happened. Rising slowly, and rubbing her backside, she hobbled over the weapons, all the while keeping the captain in her line of sight. Her knees were shaking in fear as she examined the myriad of sharp, pointy objects.

"Does my opponent have the same weapon as me, or do they get to pick their own?" she asked, turning to the captain. If she was going to survive, she had to be the soldier her father always wanted her to be. She hoped.

The Captain glanced down to Sagan, and an unspoken conversation passed between them. Charlie could tell Sagan won by the hardened line of the Captain's mouth. "He will be matched to you," the captain agreed.

Charlie nodded, looking over the weapons critically. She could possibly do this; she had been trained in fencing since she was eighteen. Granted her epee was a whole 770g in weight, and decidedly lacked a sharpened point, but she still knew how to wield a blade. However, as she examined the Klingon weapons in front of her, none would be of any use to her, all of them large, heavy, and very sharp. Biting her lip, Charlie turned, and leaning against the wall here two spears, their shafts long with small blades at the tips.

Rushing over, she picked up the weapon, surprised by its lightness and balance. The staff portion seemed to be a type of bamboo, strong yet supple. Charlie felt a modicum of calmness come over her as she studied the weapon. At least with a spear she would be able to fight and survive. Turning around, she walked into the circle, holding the weapon next to her; a silent conformation she had made her choice.

The Captain grunted and made a motion toward the Klingon who had insulted her when she first entered. He was a fierce looking warrior, his brow ridges deep and protruding, and the muscles of his arms flexing with an inordinate amount of strength. Charlie gulped visibly as he retrieved the other spear and took up position in front of her, her gaze travelling up and up until she was staring him in the eye. _Oh, this is going to suck_, she thought as she positioned herself, the sharpened tip pointed toward his chest.

The Captain called out a phrase and the Klingon lunged. Only because she had years of practice was Charlie able to dodge to the side before the blade pierced her flesh. She quickly spun to face him as the Klingons around began to shout and taunt her and her opponent. Her mouth was dry and her hands were clammy, but she was quickly able to place her fear on the back burner. This was a bout just like any other, and she was determined to win.

The Klingon and Charlie circled one another, trying to determine who would strike next. The Klingon was snarling at her, his pointed teeth barred and threatening. Charlie's face was set determinedly, waiting for any hint of attack. Her impatience finally taking over, Charlie struck with the spear, but at the last moment flipped it over her head so it struck the Klingon with the blunted end as he dodged as she had. He merely grunted, her hit glancing off his shoulder and leaving her in an unbalanced position. With a triumphant grin, the Klingon struck her on the back, the razor sharp pain causing her to cry out as she hit the mat by the force. She tried to take in a breath, the spear hitting her on the right side, but an agonizing ache told her at least one rib was broken. Before Charlie could try to rise, the blunt end of the spear contacted the side of her head, knocking her over as stars erupted in front of her vision. The other Klingons shouted triumphantly at her pain.

Gritting her teeth, Charlie quickly shook her head to clear it, rising to face her attacker. Although she was still scared, the easy way he was beating her caused her anger to escalate. She was competitive by nature, and the pattern of the fight was pissing her off. Her anger as fuel, she charged him with a shout, using all of her speed and guile to place the Klingon on the defensive; thrusting, spinning, and dodging his attacks. She was able to land a few blows, forcing him to stay back and keep his defensives up, but soon the tide changed back in his favor. The lack of suitable nutrition, and the inadequate exercise made Charlie incredibly weak, so much so that after ten minutes she was shaking all over from the pain and exertion.

The fight continued only a few minutes more before the Klingon caught her in the arm, ripping a shallow gash. With a cry, Charlie dropped the spear, her hand coming up to cover the wound as her blood pooled under her fingers. The Klingon grinned in pleasure at her pain, raising the spear to finish her off, but a shout from the Captain stopped him before he could bring the weapon down. With a growl, the Klingon threw the weapon to the side, his arms raised in triumphant.

Charlie fell to her knees on the mat, her legs unable to support her now that the fight was over. She scrunched her eyes closed in pain, shallow breaths rocking her frame from the intense throbbing of her ribs, something she had paid little attention too while fighting the Klingon. Waves of nausea were becoming more frequent as her aches intensified, and without the ability to take a deep breath, Charlie was worried she would vomit in front of the whole crew. She could hear other Klingons taunting her in some way, and she ignored them, focusing internally, trying to assess her injuries. Probably one or two broken ribs, slash on her arm, multiple deep bruising to her legs and abdomen, and a possible concussion.

Slowly Charlie opened her eyes when she felt the presence of someone in front of her. Glancing up into the eyes of the disapproving Captain, she was hauled painfully to her feet, the spear shoved into her hands as another Klingon took up position in front of her. Her eyes widened, and she backed up into the reformed circle, the others shoving her forward again. Her vision was beginning to blur and she dropped her spear.

"No," she mumbled. "I can't. . . I can't fight him."

She glanced over to Sagan, pleading with him to spare her from the humiliation and pain. With pursed lips, Sagan walked forward onto the mat, placing himself between the two fighters.

He addressed her opponent in his native tongue, and while the new Klingon argued back forcefully, Sagan was able to convince him to back down. Charlie sagged in relief, knowing she did not have to fight anymore as he dropped the spear and the others wandered off.

"Don't look too relieved, Miss Noland," Sagan remarked as he turned to her. "I only bought you twenty-four hours. Let's go heal you up as much as we can before tomorrow's competition."

Charlie, too shocked to even comment, allowed Sagan to guide her limping form out of the rec room.

"You can-cannot be . . . serious," she stumbled, her ribs like lines of fire once they were in the corridor. "They will . . . kill me."

"No, they will not, Miss Noland," Sagan firmly stated.

"Look . . . at me!" she shouted with a wince. "That was . . . one."

"And you only have one more fight. Technically you faced the third head on and Captain Kirk killed the last one so the _batlhHa' HoH_ does not apply."

"I feel . . . so . . . much better," she grumbled as Sagan led her into her cell. She never thought she would be glad to be back in her prison. It now appeared an oasis, away from the angry, vengeful eyes of the Klingons.

She fell onto the bed with a hiss, her body a mass of aching, throbbing pulses of injured nerves. She wanted to cry from the extent of her injuries, but knowing how painful a single breath was, she could not imagine what a sob would be like. Stamping down the emotion, she slowly laid on her bed, the hard metal even more uncomfortable than before.

"I will return, Miss Noland," a surprising kind sounding Sagan said.

Charlie merely huffed, wrapping her arms around herself in protection. Within ten minutes Sagan had returned, a med kit with him. Charlie sat up, her face deadpanned as he began to treat her arm wound. She was passed the point of caring, and just wanted to be left alone. He disinfected the wound and wrapped it before he ran a tricorder over her abdomen, using another machine that sent waves of warmth into her torso, her breath easing with each pass.

"Didn't know you were also a medic," Charlie commented dryly.

"I've had training," He clipped, putting his kit away. Although Charlie was still in an exorbitant amount of discomfort, it was not as bad as before. "Here," he added. He held out a damp towel so she could wipe the dried blood from her arm and hands. Charlie just stared at him, making no move to take the towel.

"I am trying to help."

Charlie's eyes hardened. "Help? You want to help? Get me off this goddamn ship and let me go home. That'll help."

Sagan sighed, his arm dropping back down. "It was a hard lesson you needed to learn, Miss Noland."

"What lesson was that?" she snapped. "Because I honestly feel like I just had the crap kicked outta me for no goddamn reason."

"Your purist view of the world is naïve and potentially damaging, as you can see by the last few hours. You think there is only good and evil, but there is so much more. If I were truly evil, I would have let the Klingon kill you."

Charlie was could not understand why she was surprised by his speech. He was a deranged individual who obviously thought he was highly superior to everyone else.

"You didn't let them kill me because you _need_ me," she argued. "I don't know why, but you would not have gone to all this trouble if I wasn't important, so forgive me if I don't believe your bullshit reason."

Sagan shook his head. "You are a fool, Miss Noland. I do require something from you, but I can get what I need elsewhere. Your sister, Rachel is promising—"

"You stay the hell away from her," Charlie threatened, wincing by the sharp pain in her ribs.

"Then you best learn I am the _only_ thing standing between you and a very vengeful Klingon crew," Sagan snapped, his eyes like ice shards. "One word, one command and they will rip you apart faster than a piranha strips meat from a bone. I am your only ally here." Sagan snapped his med kit closed and stood up, dropping the towel on the edge of the bed as he turned to leave.

"With you as an ally, who needs enemies," Charlie drawled, her face hardened by anger and pain.

"I am your only hope, Miss Noland. Do not forget that. Have a good evening."


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Back off Man

**Sorry this is late everyone! Had one very interesting and busy weekend. I hope you all can forgive me for making you wait for this chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Back Off, Man. I'm a Scientist**

True to form, the next day Charlie was taken from her prison cell and brought back to the rec room. While the pain she was experiencing was some of the worse she had ever felt in her life, she had spent the night analyzing the moves from the last bout. She knew what errors she had done, and what advantages she should have utilized. Her mind set, and not stunned like the day before, she was able to give the second Klingon one hell of fight. He of course was able to overpower her and draw the necessary blood sacrifice in the form of a deep puncture wound to her thigh, but not before she got a few good hits to his head and body. He technically won, but was satisfyingly limping after the fight.

Unfortunately, Charlie knew she had re-fractured her ribs and her arm was hanging awkwardly after the Klingon pulled rather hard on her spear. Sagan wasted no time repairing the worst of her injuries, but the minor cuts and deeper bruises he left alone.

"Character building," he had called them. Charlie just called him an asshole.

The rest of the week, Charlie spent back in solitary, her aches and pains worsening each day. She tried to get up and move, knowing that as bad as they felt, if she didn't keep her body in motion, the stiffening of her joints and ligaments would make everything far worse. This proved difficult, however, by the size of her small prison. There were only so many jumping jacks one can do with partially healed ribs.

Charlie tried to remain positive in her prison. She had the semblance of plan together, and if she played her cards right, she would be able to get away from Sagan and the Klingons with the New Red Matter. And maybe the chance to get home.

She would not let herself give in to despair or fear, knowing that too much was riding on her, and those emotions would only deter her from her prime objective. The bouts with the Klingons put a lot of things in perspective for Charlie, and whether or not she liked to admit it, she was finally becoming the soldier her father wanted. Maybe it was the fact that she was locked in with herself for days on end, but Charlie was able to self-reflect in a way she was never allowed to do before. Instead of breaking her down, she found an inner-strength she never knew she possessed. Sagan's description of her family rang firm and true: they were warriors and she would fight until she couldn't anymore. She had to. While Kate and Philippa were the charging forces in her mind, she knew that potentially all life on Earth and the Federation could depend on how she played her cards in the next few days. She didn't know if the _Enterprise_ would be able to find her, so it was to herself she turned as the rescuer.

As much as she wished she could be like Jim and fly by the emotional seat of her pants, she knew that logic would take her farther. She needed the think clearly, and plan her escape appropriately, or everything would be lost. And if that escape proved disastrous for one PhD Professor, so be it.

Finally, after endless hours in the dark, the telltale sounds of footfalls thundered down the corridor before stopping in front of her door. She sat up as the door swished opened, several Klingons flanking the opening while Sagan stood in the light.

"Time to go, my dear," he said.

Charlie rose, her back straight and her shoulders squared as she walked to Sagan and her escort. No matter what happened on the station, she would not be defeated.

"Arms out, please," Sagan ordered as she came to stand next to him. She raised an eyebrow but held her wrists out as he clasped a type of handcuff on. Grabbing her uninjured upper arm, he directed Charlie and their team of Klingons through the ship to an awaiting shuttle. Sitting in her seat, Charlie could not help but wonder at the view outside the small window as the shuttle left the Klingon ship and headed toward the space station. Although she knew she was in outer space, the size of the ships she found herself provided the ability to overlook the concept. Now that she was in a vehicle not much larger than a car, the sensation was much harder to ignore.

The expanse of black was domineering outside the small window, and it was almost impossible to contemplate the number of miles between herself and Earth. Granted, she had dreamed of space and had studied everything she could on it, it wasn't until Sagan brought her to the 23rd century that Charlie left Earth. She was so small compared to the universe outside her little, oval window and that was a daunting prospect.

The shuttle turned, allowing Charlie to catch a glimpse of the hazy, green planet that the station orbited. Obviously a gas giant, Charlie could only stare in wonder as the swirling gases of green and blue colors changed and pooled in different configurations below. The station came fully into view next. A long, thinner looking station, it resembled more of a screw with the top large and ballooned tapering as it moved down. The station was mostly black and large holes were blasted into several of its sides, jagged pieces floating free in space. It had taken heavy fire from something, and Charlie had a feeling the ship she had just left had done the damage.

The shuttle moved around the station, the bright light of the nearest star casting rays of orange light onto the walls before the station eclipsed in front. They pulled into a large, open hanger on the back, its wide and open mouth black and frightening. Once the shuttle smoothly landed, a rippling shield travelled across the opening, sealing the hanger from the vacuum of space.

Sagan had stood the moment the shuttle had touched down, and by the time he had completed the landing checklist, the life support systems were fully operational throughout the protected sections of the base. Charlie was hauled off the vehicle and into the cargo bay, her bruised legs protesting against the speed that the Klingons were pushing her. They proceeded to drag her through the halls of the damaged station, wires and conductors sparking angrily around them. Charlie could see the heavy damage inflicted everywhere, and she was surprised they were even able to walk to the halls without the use of protective suits. The air was stale, a sulfuric smell similar to matches wrinkling Charlie's nose. It was also surprisingly cold, goosebumps rising on her exposed arms and neck.

After the last few twists and turns, they entered into a long corridor where several heavy and thick steel doors stood haphazardly ajar, their blackened facades evident of the blasts required to open them. Many dents littered their frames as well, and Charlie had a sneaking suspicious the Klingons were the ones to force the doors open. The question was what they were so desperate to get to. What could possibly be so important for the Klingons to attack a Federation space station?

After passing through the last doorway, Charlie and her Klingon escort entered in a vast chamber. The ceiling was probably a good two or three stories tall, arching above like a cathedral. The room was horseshoe shaped, the one straight wall occupied by a giant machine that reared as high as the ceiling. Cables and wires twisted around the dark frame, and an eerie blue glow radiated from the center. A soft, pulsing sound could be heard, and Charlie distantly wondered what it was for. Surrounding the machine, several stations stood like those on the _Enterprise_, each on a different level from the floor.

What surprised Charlie about the chamber she found herself in was the lack of damage to anything within the room. The corridors of the station were riddled with phaser blasts and dented wall panels, but the room she now found herself in looked virtually untouched. Not a wire was out of place, or a mark found on the grey walls. The room was just dark, with overhead lightening illuminating only the consoles.

The Klingons marched Charlie over to one of the stations, forcing her down into a chair as Sagan sauntered up slowly. Quickly they secured her to the arms of the chair, pinning her to the seat.

"You may leave," he dismissed them.

Glaring at the repeated rough handling by her escorts, Charlie observed the retreating alien figures before turning her attention to the machine and asked curiously, "What is that?" as she tried to loosen her metal bindings to no avail.

"That, my dear, is the reason you are here," Sagan answered, gesturing toward the metal monstrosity. "In all my years of study and research, I have never seen such a pillar of human capability."

Charlie snorted. "And what does this pillar of human capability do?"

Sagan smiled a cold and calculating grin like a Cheshire cat. "It has the capability of creating the one element that can change the space-time continuum as we know it."

Charlie's confused gaze flickered over to the seemingly passive apparatus. "I don't understand. How can it do that?" she said slowly.

Sagan continued to grin as he spun and headed over the device, extracting a vial from its illuminated blue depths. His hand had disappeared the moment it came in contact with the light, and Charlie was surprised that what looked to be an impenetrable force was in fact similar more to mist. His hand was extracted with only a light blue tinge to his skin that quickly evaporated. Striding back over, he held the vial containing a deep purple sphere only the side of quarter under her nose.

"This, Miss Noland. This is what men have died for. This is what I have spent my life trying to find."

Charlie skeptically regarded the vial. "A purple blob?"

Sagan scoffed. "No, you impudent girl! Red Matter!"

Charlie's eyes widened, her attention to the vial changing. That vial, and the tiny amount of material inside was the key to sending Charlie, Kate, and Philippa back to 21st century Earth. This is what she needed to escape! And Sagan had unwittingly provided the last portion to her plan.

"But it's purple," she pointed out.

"A side effect to the refining process," Sagan shrugged, turning back around to place the vial back into its protective blue casing. "The stabilization procedure transforms the color of the element, but it in no way changes its potency. There is enough New Red Matter in that vial to send a hundred ships back two hundred years."

"And you just happen to have all of it. How quaint," Charlie added with distain. "Tell me, did you do this on your own, or did you kidnap someone else?"

"As much as I would indeed love to take the acclaim, I cannot give credit where it isn't due. The stabilizer you see behind me is the true master to this opera. That machine will revolutionize this universe."

"And how do I play into this 'revolution of the universe'?" Charlie quipped crossly.

Sagan, smirked, his cold eyes calculating. "Your egotism knows no bounds, Miss Noland."

"You're one to talk, Sagan. Last I checked, I wasn't the one raving about changing the universe. Just asking how I fit into your plan of 'world domination.'"

"Your claws have not been blunted like I had expected," Sagan commented dryly, his attention moving to the station in front of the pair.

Charlie just glared at his back. "Sharpened actually. Repeated grinding tends to do that."

"Come, come my dear! You cannot still be upset over that little folly with the Klingons," Sagan exclaimed, turning back to face her. "After all, they wanted to tear you limb from limb, but I was able to turn their vengeance in another, more manageable direction."

"And I am eternally grateful," Charlie sarcastically replied.

"Some genuine gratitude would not be adverse, Miss Noland. I stuck my neck out for you," Sagan growled.

"I was beaten to a bloody pulp. _Literally_, Sagan! Why should I owe you any gratitude? If you had not interfered in my life I would have had no reason to piss off the Klingons to begin with, so forgive me for not leaping at the opportunity to thank you."

Sagan sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Do you not see what I am providing?" he asked, glancing back up into her angry, brown eyes. "Your name will go down with mine as the creators of Time Continuum Travel! I am opening so many doors for you."

"But I don't want it!" Charlie announced, pulling against her restraints. "I don't want the glory or the recognition for something I didn't do! I just want to go home!"

"And you will, my dear. You will return home once you help me get what I need."

"Which is what exactly?" Charlie snapped. "I'm tired of playing these damn verbal games of ping pong. What the hell do you need from me?"

"Your DNA," Sagan said simply. "Specifically your living, mitochondrial DNA."

Charlie blinked. "My what? Why?"

"This machine you see behind me was created by a very special pupil of mine many years ago," Sagan answered, his icy gaze boring into Charlie's. "He was able to formulate the theory of Red Matter stabilization after the Nero event had occurred. He felt it was a way to undo the past, to prevent the destruction of Vulcan and the Science Academy. A saving grace for the Federation," he added contemptuously. "He failed to see the power behind such a machine. He was limited in imagination for what he accomplished; the power one could hold over the universe."

"And let me guess, he didn't want to embrace that power. Use his gift for good and not evil?"

"The fairytale you try to live in is really quite impressive, Miss Noland. Yes, he refused to grant me, or anyone for that matter, access to his research. He went so far as to pack up everything and leave quietly in night; coming out to this barren, frontier station to try to hide away, locking his research an almost unbreakable safe in the process. He really thought he was going to save the Federation."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Charlie commented sarcastically.

Sagan smirked. "Indeed. Indeed he was, Miss Noland. Do you want to know his name?"

Charlie regarded the gleam in Sagan's eyes, the way he held his body, poised like a snake ready to strike. Even before he said it, Charlie knew Sagan was speaking of a relative.

"Enlightening me," she challenged.

"His name was Edward Noland-Spear. His dear, deceased mother was a decent of your brother, I believe."

Sagan grinned like a Cheshire cat again, waiting for Charlie to react to the news. She could tell from the way he held his posture, the tightly coiled position his muscles clearly stated he expected her to lose her composure. Well he was in for a surprise.

"And you want his research for what? Going back in time and changing your sad little existence?"

"Watch your tone, Miss Noland," Sagan threatened, his good humor evaporating in an instant. "Many societies would pay quite a bit of credits for the power to return to the past. To change injustices done in the name of honor, or glory, or other such fantastical nonsense. The market is rather open at the moment, with high demand and no supply."

"Do the Klingons know you're two-timing them?"

"Minor details, Miss Noland. They have provided much of the tools and technologies needed to bring us to this point; their offer will be weighed heavily against the others. Only you now stand between me and absolute authority," Sagan grinned, reaching out to stroke Charlie's cheek almost lovingly.

"You really are a bastard, you know that right?" She glared, keeping herself as calm as possible. The feel of his cold hand against her skin caused a shiver of apprehension to slide down her spine like ice.

Sagan's grin slid off his face, and he quickly backhanded Charlie across the cheek, the action surprising more than injuring her.

"That is enough, Miss Noland. Now I have been more than generous with you, but I am quickly losing my patience," he spat. "It is time you drop your attempt at defiance and accept the fact that I have won. Your precious _Captain_ is not going to save you, you are here through _my_ will, your fate lies in _my_ hands, and once I have what I need, I may just let the Klingons do as they wish with you. You are expendable."

Charlie, her mouth hanging open in shock, slowly turned her face forward from where it had been whipped to the side, tears from the stinging pain blurring her vision. For once she was at a loss for words, his clear and present threats echoing through her skull. She slowly closed her jaw, the pulsing pain in her cheek adding more fuel to her desire to escape as soon as she could.

"Now, are you going to behave and stop giving me so much cheek?" His tone reminded Charlie of her father, acting as if he could care less about how she acted, as long as she didn't embarrass him. Grinding her teeth in anger, Charlie nodded slowly, not daring to speak for the curses she wanted to throw at him. "Good, now if you—"

"Well, Human?! Have you retrieved the device?!" a voice boomed across the chamber, echoing in the rafters above like a cathedral. Sagan sighed, turning to regard the large Klingon Captain who had just entered.

Even in the massive room, the Klingon still posed an impressive sight. He was flanked by several members of his command crew, their large statures and impressive metal belts across their chests clear indicators of their positions. The Captain sauntered up to the pair of humans, his nosed raised in disgust as he took in the restrained appearance of Charlie. She knew she must have looked a sight, her hair limp and greasy, pulled back in as a good a braid as she could have mustered. Her black tank top was torn in places, caked with dried blood and dirt, her trousers not much better. She was covered in bruises in all shapes, her skin a kaleidoscope of colors. Charlie knew she was littered with small cuts as well, but without the luxury of a mirror, she could only imagine what patterns they made.

"I am still making progress through the multitude of firewalls, Kretorg. Patience," Sagan replied, returning to his console. His tone, while pleasant, held a hint of distain that had the Captain growling quietly. Marching over, the Captain sat in one of the other office chairs in the room, his great size creating an almost comical appearance with the smaller furniture piece.

They sat in silence for several minutes, only the clicking of the Sagan's fingers across the panel, and Charlie's slightly ragged breathing disrupting the fragile calm. Ever so slowly, the dull pain Charlie had been experiencing since leaving the ship rose, the position on the chair aggravating her partially healed ribs. The restraints on the arms were also biting into her skin, every small movement she made forcing the metal deeper. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Klingons were grinning maliciously at her discomfort. They fueled her to appear casual about her detainment, but inside she was screaming.

Finally, the subtly high-pitched beeping echoes softly from the panel, Sagan grinning maliciously.

"It's your time to shine, my dear," he said as he marched over to release Charlie.

She sighed in relief as the metal clasps were unlocked, rubbing her arms where red marks marred the bruised skin. Taking her upper arm in his hand, Sagan directed Charlie over to the panel, where she did not notice a computer hardwired into the mainframe of the station. The computer, which appeared more like a small tricorder, was flashing up at Charlie as she was pulled closer. Sagan released Charlie's arm as he withdrew a small dagger, and she subconsciously took a step back as the bright metal flashed in the light.

"Relax," Sagan admonished, reaching out with lightning speed to take hold of her wrist in a vise grip. He pulled her closer roughly, and Charlie stumbled forward, her left hand landing on the console to catch herself. Before Charlie could regain her balance, a fire of pain slashed across her palm, her fingers subconsciously curling around the wound. Sagan held her now clenched fist over the screen of the computer, squeezing until several droplets of dark blood landing on the glass.

"That's it?" she asked shocked as the screen started to light up and analyze her blood sample. "Why the hell didn't you just take a sample before?"

"Needed to be fresh, my dear," Sagan grinned.

Abruptly, Charlie was thrown back as the Klingon Captain rushed forward, wanting to see the results for himself. In fact, all the Klingons were huddling around Sagan, subsequently pushing her out of their way, her presence no longer a priority. Clutching her hand to her chest, Charlie realized for the first time in over a week, no one was paying attention to her. Glancing over at the stabilizer, she realized her chance had arrived. Inching her way over to the machine, and making sure not to draw attention to herself, she reached her uninjured hand into the bright blue mists, a surprising warm sensation engulfing up to her wrist. Withdrawing the vial triumphantly, Charlie snapped her head back when she saw a Klingon move in her periphery. Breathing out a sigh in relief that one had only shifted his stance, she backed into the shadows and made her way quickly to the door just as she heard an ominous blaring from the console. A Klingon swore, and Charlie realized to her horror, her blood had not worked.

Turning, she fled down the corridor as angry males shouted behind her. With blood pulsing in her ears, she ran as fast as she could, knowing that if she didn't make it out now, she never would.

* * *

**You have all been rather quiet the last few weeks. I do appreciate when you leave reviews, even if its only a sentence! Your opinions are all very valuable to me, and love any and all feedback. I promise I will post on time on Saturday, barring any unforeseen circumstances! Thank you for reading!**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: The Need for Speed

**Thank you everyone for your amazing reviews. It has been a really shitty week, and it's getting into crunch time for my dissertation + the added stress of moving back to the states. You all are wonderful and gave such a bright spot for my week :) Please enjoy the next installment and as always let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: I Feel the Need – the Need for Speed**

The pounding in her ears could almost drown out the enormous crashing of booted feet behind her as Charlie darted her way through the damaged corridors. She bobbed and weaved around broken electrical cables and collapsed ceiling panels, her small, light frame as agile as a gazelle. The vial she had stolen from the stabilizer was clenched in her sweaty fist, held close to her heart for fear of dropping it.

Coming to a T in the maze of the station, Charlie quickly ducked right, her booted feet on the hard floor soon becoming the only sound past her ragged panting. She knew she was lost in the large station, having failed to pay close enough attention when she was guided from the landing dock, but that revelation forced her to run faster. She did not know if around the next corner a Klingon would jump out of the shadows and stop her escape before it had barely begun.

When she could no longer hear the angry shouts and heavy thumping behind her, Charlie slowed to a walk, bracing her hands on her knees as she attempted to bring her breathing back to normal. She had a wicked stich in her side, and sweat was dripping down her forehead in cold rivulets as she stood panting. She wasn't sure what the next phase in her plan was, having failed to get back to Klingon shuttle in enough time. Granted, she was not sure how to even pilot the thing, but that did not mean she wasn't going to try. Straightening up, Charlie more casually began to limp down the corridor she entered, her shaking limbs a stark reminder of her injured state.

Around a bend, Charlie came to an abrupt halt as several large pieces of debris blocked her way forward. With a huff that blew a sweaty strand of hair out of her face, Charlie turned around and headed back the way she had come, her ears straining to listen for any sign of approaching Klingons. The station was mostly dark with only emergency lighting illuminating the dark corridors. An eerily silence lingered as she continued on, the low lighting throwing fearsome shadows on the walls and ceiling, several times sending Charlie's heart into her throat when she thought she had run into a Klingon.

Biting her lip in agitation, and from the chill of both fear and the cold, Charlie was able to wander through the corridors for several minutes more before an ominous sound of approaching feet froze her in her tracks. Whipping her head around to look for a place to hide, Charlie noticed a narrow hole blown into a wall and was able to wedge herself into the small crawl space. She folded herself as tiny as she could, shuffling away from the light of the corridor as she burrowed.

Just when she was sure she was as far in as she could go, the telltale sounds of booted feet echoed around her. Charlie froze, her breath hitched in her chest, and she feared the pounding of her heart would give her away. She tingled all over as her adrenaline spiked, and she realized absurdity she needed to pee. She watched, her dark eyes wide as the boots entered into her line of sight, the Klingons whispering to one another as they passed by. The shadows of the corridor appeared to work in her favor, the hole in the wall unnoticed by the pair. As soon as they had come, they were gone and Charlie released the breath she was holding, relaxing her tense and aching muscles. She was able to stretch out a bit further, but still held herself in a small ball; the space not wide enough for her to be completely comfortable. Leaving her crawl space briefly crossed her mind, but not knowing if another pair was out there, waiting for her to emerge, Charlie remained in the same position.

She stayed that way for another half hour, but when no other sounds were heard, she hesitantly shifted, wincing as her body protested the movement. Charlie stuck her head out very slowly, using the dark hair that escaped her braid to hide the white of her face. Seeing and hearing no one, she swiftly exited the crawl space, heading in the opposite directions the Klingons had gone.

She hurried down the corridors, turning left then right at several intersections before she found herself facing another blocked passageway. Growling in frustration, she turned around, but not before hearing the sounds of approaching footfalls again. Panicked, she looked for another means of escape similar to last time, but there were no perfect hidey-holes for her to crawl in. Her eyes darting back and forth as the sounds inched closer, she jumped to the side, pressing her back against the all when a set of closed doors hissed open to allow her entrance. As soon as she passed the sensors, the doors shut, forming a barrier between Charlie and the Klingons. Grabbing a piece of broken piping off the floor, Charlie rammed the end into the door's electrical panel, praying as sparks flew up in the air that she short-circuited the sensors to prevent the Klingons from entering.

Hanging on to the pipe in case of an emergency, she backed further into the dark room, her movements triggering the motion detection lights. Immediately several yellow and blue beams from the ceiling illuminated a large empty bay where one lone regulation Federation shuttle sat cold and alone.

Charlie stood there, blinking at the vehicle for several seconds not believing her luck. Once she realized she had in fact _not_ hallucinated, she rushed over to the machine excitedly, practically ripping the back door off its hinges as she scrambled inside, dropping the pipe in the process. She quickly locked it and then hurried to the pilot's seat feeling lighter than air in relief. A quick wave of her hand and the console panel lit up in bright blue as currents of information started to scroll across the screen. Charlie stared at the display, biting her bottom lip as she realized with a dropping stomach that she had no clue how to even fly the shuttle to safety. She figured it was probably as simple as a car, but she felt like a Model T driver who was just dropped in a souped up Lamborghini; too many buttons that did too many things.

Glancing around at the various keys on the touchscreen, Charlie noticed a flashing light that read COMM in bold letters. Hitting it, the touch screen was replaced by a whole window dedicated to communications. Realizing then that instead of flying out of the station, she could bring the escape to her, she quickly activated the emergency frequency control and said,

"Please, to whatever Federation starship can hear this, my name is Charlie Noland and I have been kidnapped off the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ by Dr. Robert Sagan and a band of Klingons. I think they have taken me somewhere called the Boradis system. I am in a heavily damaged station next to a blue gas giant, and I request help immediately. Please, send as many people as you can. The Klingons are heavily armed and—"

"That is quite enough, my dear," a calm, cold voice spoke behind her.

Charlie gasped and froze, her fingers falling off the display and ending the transmission as she turned slowly, noticing Sagan standing behind her pointing a rather lethal looking phaser at her head. Her brown eyes widened in alarm with the deadly glint to his cold, blue eyes and she slowly raised her arms in response. A flick of his wrist had her flinching before she slowly stood and faced him, all amusement gone from his visage. In fact, he was breathing heavily and distinctive red flush colored his cheeks and forehead.

"You are one foolish, foolish girl, Miss Noland," Sagan spat, indicating that she should move toward the exit and keep in front of him. "Now. Where is it?"

"Where's what?" she breathlessly asked as she inched slowly near him. She was now and truly terrified of the man before her, and knew without a doubt that she was in very big trouble.

"The vial!" he shouted, gesturing widely with the weapon, causing Charlie to flinch again. "You stupid, insolent woman! What did you do with it?!"

"Here, it's here." She held out her hand, the vial resting calmly on her shaking palm. Sagan snatched the container out of her hands before roughly shoving her out of the back door of the shuttle and into the bay.

"Do you have any idea how difficult you have made this situation for yourself?" Sagan snapped, shoving the barrel of the phaser into her back sharply. "I had to use the sensor array of the _Mor'Tah_ to locate you! You're lucky I was able to modify it to pass through the containment fields we have in place or you would have been sucked into the vacuum of space! Now come, before I decide that flinging you out into unknown isn't such an unpleasant idea!"

Sagan jammed the weapon between her shoulder blades again as he marched her out of the room. Charlie, her hands raised in surrender as she walked, silently prayed that _someone_ would hear her call.

* * *

"Captain! I'm receiving an incoming transmission," Uhura alerted, spinning a knob back and forth to isolate the faint voice coming through her earpiece. "It's a distress signal, but it's faint."

"Origins, Lieutenant?" Kirk asked as he bounded out of his chair and onto the platform where communications was located. After several days of uneventful traveling, Kirk was a bundle of restless energy.

"I'm trying to locate it," Uhura responded, her head tilted as she tried to discern where the message was hailing from. "I think it's the Boradis system!"

"Visual?" Kirk could feel his body tense like a spring as he leaned over onto the panel. Although he had a probable location where Sagan had taken Charlie, he didn't know if she was actually there, or if she was still alive in the week since she was kidnapped. He did not want to think that she would already be dead by the time the _Enterprise_ made it to the further reaches of Federation Space, but his months as Captain had forced his to consider _all_ outcomes, even if he refused to believe in them.

"Negative, Sir. Audio only."

"Play it, Uhura."

"Aye, Sir."

The crackle of static filled the bridge. Waves of radiations prevalent throughout space were disrupting the signals as they traveled to the _Enterprise_. Underneath it all, a small voice could be heard, but the words were indistinguishable. Uhura fiddled with a few more controls, the voice slowly becoming clearer with each second.

". _. . in a heavily damaged station next to a blue gas giant, and I request help immediately. Please, send as many people as you can_—"

"Uhura, loop that transmission," Kirk said as Spock came to stand next to him. "Play it from the beginning."

"Yes, Sir," she answered. A few seconds later Charlie's voice wafted through the speakers on the bridge.

"_Please, to whatever Federation starship can hear this, my name is Charlie Noland and I have been kidnapped off the _U.S.S Enterprise _ by Dr. Robert Sagan and a band of Klingons. I think they have taken me somewhere called the Boradis system. I am in a heavily damaged station next to a blue gas giant, and I request help immediately. Please, send as many people as you can. The Klingons are heavily armed and_—" the transmission abruptly cut off.

"What happened? Where's the rest of the message?" Kirk asked, his heart hammering at the fearful undercurrent of her message.

"That's it, Captain," Uhura replied. "It cuts off there."

"Lieutenant, when was the message broadcasted?" Spock questioned stoically as Kirk swore.

"2200 hours yesterday," Uhura answered as she watched Jim tense and begin to pace.

"So she's alive," Kirk interjected. "As of yesterday, she's still alive."

"All evidence points to that assessment, Captain."

"Sulu! Any chance you can make this ship go faster?" Kirk, full of energy and drive quickly snapped to his helmsman.

"Negative, Sir," Sulu answered in response.

"Captain, any faster speed would severely compromise the integrity of the hull," Spock spoke simply. "We are already at the maximum capabilities of the ship."

"She's alive, Spock," Jim turned and tried to argue. "Twenty hours ago, Charlie was alive, but the way that transmission cuts off . . . she may be in more trouble than before. I'm not about to get this close and have her die because we couldn't get a half a percent more speed out of this ship."

"Any increase percentage of speed is not recommended," Spock continued. "It is illogical to put the crew at such risk."

Jim clenched his teeth in agitation, the muscles in his jaw flexing in agitation. "I will not sit by and do nothing," he firmly whispered.

"We are not inactive, Captain. Our earlier supposition of the Boardis system appears to be correct and we will arrive in less than fifteen hours. I fail to understand your observation of 'doing nothing.'"

Jim, his arms stretched across the railing between the upper and lower decks of the bridge glared out the view screen into the reaches of space and took several deep breaths to calm himself. He knew he was acting irrational, even by his standards, but he could not stop the spike in his fight mode when he heard Charlie's voice. She sounded so scared in the transmission, and the way that it abruptly ended sent a cold wave of fear through him. He did not know what she was going through at that moment, and his inability to get to her any faster was driving him mad.

"I don't think you understand, Spock. We need to get there faster than before. Obviously, she was able to get away from Sagan to send out a communication, but she may have been caught when the signal cut off. Or the station's system powers are failing. She did mention it was heavily damaged."

Spock observed the tense form of the captain silently, his Vulcan mind rapidly processing variables and deductions until only one outcome held any measure of truth. "May I see you in your ready room, Jim?" Spock voiced after a moment. He knew using the Captain's forename when on duty would get his point across better than anything else would.

Jim tensed when Spock asked his question, and with a quick exhale, he stood straight, and nodded his head. Walking around the upper deck, Jim entered through the door first, with Spock close on his heels.

"What's on your mind, Commander?" Jim asked as he spun around to lean his hip on his desk, his muscled arms crossing in front of his chest.

Spock stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back as his eyes focused in front of him. "I feel you may be emotional compromised, Captain. Your responses to the kidnapping, and subsequent pursuit for Miss Noland go beyond that of a concerned Federation officer."

"I am not emotionally compromised."

"Your actions would indicate otherwise."

"What are you getting at, Spock?" Jim snapped. "Do you think I should step aside as commanding officer for this mission?"

"That is not what I was inferring, Jim," Spock replied gently. The use of his name threw Jim off his game a bit, his anger diluting as quickly as it had pressurized.

"Then what were you inferring?"

"Have you considered your feelings toward this mission exceed that of a routine rescue?" Spock asked carefully.

Jim raised an eyebrow in a similar characteristic as his First Officer. "Are you trying to ask without asking if I have more than just friendly feelings for a certain time-travelling damsel in distress?" Jim responded ruefully.

"If that is how you see the intention of my inquiry then you would be correct, Captain."

Jim sighed, pushing himself off the table as he ran a frustrated hand through his blonde hair, causing it to spike in odd angle. "Well in answer to your question, Spock, I honestly don't know. This rescue mission does go beyond a typical one for us, if there is such thing as that. It's just – you know what the last thing she said to me? She didn't ask me to save her; she asked to get Philippa and Kate back to their home. Even when some crazy professor broke through our security shields and demanded her for who-knows-what, she refused to think of herself. I admire that, and I don't think she should have to suffer because we – because _I_ – failed to protect her."

Spock's head tilted to the side, his brow raised slightly in contemplation. "Fascinating."

Jim rolled his eyes heavenward. "What's so fascinating?"

"You speak as if you are the one to blame for her disappearance, when it is Dr. Sagan who is the malefactor. The bridge crew was also unable to prevent Dr. Sagan's transport onto the _Enterprise_ or his and Miss Noland's subsequent departure. Why do you take so much responsibility for one individual? I understand you are Captain, but the strength in your emotions is illogical."

Jim stopped as he considered Spock's words carefully. It was true. While he and his crew had already dealt with a multitude of complications since taking command, many similar to form as the mission they were currently in, Jim had never taken as deep an interest in the individuals involved as he had with Charlie. Of course as captain he had a measure of involvement, and in many instances, actions on his ship reflected back onto him and were handled accordingly. However, Charlie's case held such a different level of importance to Jim, one he had not truly considered until Spock's prodding questions.

"I guess I do feel something for her, Spock," Jim spoke carefully, chewing his words slowly. "I never really considered it before; I thought it revolved around Sagan stealing anyone off my ship, but something about her . . . I can't explain it. I won't be satisfied until she is back onboard where she is safe and I can protect her. Truly protect her."

Spock nodded, smiling as much as a Vulcan exhibited. "No need to explain further, Jim. Let us work recover Miss Noland, and arrest the doctor for his crimes."

Jim nodded, his frame hardening in resolve. The talk with Spock had grounded him to the task at hand, clearing his mind of his muddled emotions. He was not completely done with sorting through the myriad of feelings, but enough was made clear the Jim could focus. Doctor Sagan and his merry band of Klingons were in for one hell of a ride.

* * *

The air in Charlie's lungs was forcefully expelled as the fist connected with her diaphragm, her torso hunching over to try to protect her fragile core. Her hair was grabbed in a large fist, excruciatingly wrenched up to bring her bloodied face to stare into her assaulter's gleeful gaze. A few more hits landed on her face and body, her arms twisted painfully behind her back to keep her immobilized while blood pooled in her mouth. She could feel as the metallic tasting substance filled behind her lips and spat the red mass onto the floor at the Klingons feet, the splatter leaving small droplets on his boots. He roared in disgust, backhanding her across the left cheek, ripping a gash open as the warm feeling of blood ran down her cheek.

Sagan, Charlie could see through her one non-swollen eye, was casually leaning against the control panel, a deep frown marring his features as he watched the Klingon land blow after painful blow onto her small frame.

"I say we just kill her and be done with it!" the Captain announced as he too watched his men inflect as much pain on the human girl. "She's more trouble than she's worth."

Charlie's heart did a quick jump in fear when Sagan didn't move. He merely continued to stare at her, gesturing to the Klingon to continue his assault when he paused to hear his next order.

"Not yet, Kretorg," Sagan sneered after a bit. "There were many passwords and firewalls to break through before I had submitted her DNA. One wrong letter or number and the lock will not open, even with the organic matter. I just need to try a few more combinations, and if they don't work, then you may kill her."

Sagan held his hand up to prevent any more damage to the fragile human, her shaking, bleeding form a mass of sobs as she fell onto the cold, metal floor.

"Now, Miss Noland, have we learned our lesson? Stealing was not a wise move, especially when the vial is more precious to me than your life. I think for good measure, you should spend the night here and think about what you had done. Lock her in the storage room."

Charlie barely heard Sagan, her mind focused on the pulsating waves of throbbing pain that vibrated through her body. She didn't know if she wanted to vomit or pass out, neither seeming all that smart at the moment. Her arms were grabbed in bruising grips, and she was dragged into a side room with one lone window. As they dropped her onto the now carpeted floor, her wrists were raised and clasped into metal-like shackles suspending her arms above her head.

As the two Klingons left, Sagan entered into her prison, kneeling down to stare into her face. With a quick wave of the instrument in his hand, her eye was slowly returned to normal and the gash partially healed, but the rest of her beaten body was left alone.

"I want you to truly think about what you have done, Miss Noland," he lectured as he made sure she had no potential fatal injuries, ignoring her hisses of pain. "I will spare you only this once, but steal from me again, and I will gladly watch the Klingons rip you apart. It is only because I do not want to use the last of my resources to find another one of your family members that you still draw breath. Don't test my patience again. I will see you in the morning," he finished, rising and walking away. "Pleasant dreams."

The door shut behind him, leaving her in the darkened room with her bloodied body and broken soul the only elements for company. She couldn't escape. She wasn't fast enough, smart enough, or even lucky enough to get away, and now she was going to die because of it. All of Sagan's promises of glory were nothing but empty words. Not that she would have helped him in anyway, but the selfish part of her mind was shouting loud enough now, asking if this was what she wanted; to be chained up in some god-forsaken station in the outer reaches of space.

No help was coming. If the _Enterprise_ had followed, then they should have already swept in to save the day. While Charlie remembered she had told Jim to try to get Kate and Philippa home, that same, selfish part of her still hoped that he would come for her as he had promised. Instead, she had been abandoned where she was fated to die alone. Her hope had finally run out.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the empty room. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you home, Kate and Philly. I tried, I really did. Please forgive me, wherever you are. I wasn't strong enough."

One painful tear slid down her cheek as Charlie hung her head, her screaming shoulders a distant feeling as she gave in to despair and darkness. What else could she do? Where else could she turn? She tried to rely on herself, and all that had done was lead her in a spiral of worsening circumstances. She tried to hope for the support of others, but instead she was left to taste the bitterness of disappointment. She was falling, and nothing was going to catch her, all the emotions she had tried to repress, that she had tried to forget and ignore poured out of her in pulsating waves. Her father always said she needed to control her feelings, but Charlie realized that it wasn't in her to do so. She was a person of emotions, her strength and personality derived from them, and it only took Sagan stripping her of everything else for Charlie realize who she was. If only now she could have the opportunity to tell everyone how she felt, to share her emotions with the people she loved. With Kate and Philly, and with Jim who her heart screamed the loudest for.

With a sigh, which led to a hiccup, and finally a full sob, Charlie closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the wall, stretching her shaking legs in front of her. Maybe, if she just gave up, she could die in that little room and give Sagan one last middle-finger insult of rebellion.

For several hours, Charlie laid there, her arm muscles cramping from their positions, as she stared blankly out into the dark room. The station had shifted enough that the faint glow of a nearby star shown in to highlight the grey plaster walls in soft gold, illuminating her new prison. Several dark grey storage boxes occupied the wall opposite her, their lids thrown haphazardly open. A table and a few chairs were stacked in the middle, while different machinery instruments piled on top one another underneath. The room was the size of her dorm in Colorado, and with all of the items taking up the space, only a narrow walkway was left to traverse the room. While she acknowledged their existence, Charlie paid no attention to the objects surrounding her. She was past the point of trying to find a new escape, of finding a new way out. She only wanted left alone.

Slowly, Charlie consciousness began to fade from exhaustion and pain. Earlier, she had gone through the symptoms of shock; the dizziness, shallow breathing, and clammy skin long past. Her eyelids became like weights, and although she struggled at first to keep them open, Charlie gradually felt herself slip into the welcome blackness.

However, before she could completely drop into the void of unconsciousness, she noticed small lights beginning to illuminate from behind her eyelids. With a gargantuan effort, she opened her amber gaze to the sight of two forms materializing right before her. The pain-induced haze of her brain could not comprehend what her eyes were seeing, feeling as if she was caught in a strange dream. Squinting as the lights brightened, Charlie began to recognize the bodies taking shape. In a flash, the white lights were gone, leaving two well-armed Starfleet officers standing before her.

With her mind so filled with shock, all Charlie could mutter through her parched lips was,

"Jim?"


	15. Chapter Fifteen: You Can't Handle Truth

**Chapter Fifteen: You Can't Handle the Truth**

Charlie blinked, her mind trying vainly to comprehend the men standing in front of her.

"Jim? Is that really you?" Charlie muttered weakly, a relief rushing through her as a tidal wave of joy. She tried to smile, but the bruised muscles in her face preventing a full grin.

"Charlie? Jesus!" Jim exclaimed as he quickly kneeled down to her eyelevel, taking in her broken form with wide eyes. "What happened to you?" He reached to lay his hand next to her undamaged cheek, surprised at how cold and clammy she felt. Her dark eyes were glassy, reminding Jim of the first time he caught her on that transporter pad over a month and a half before. Dr. McCoy, who had also made the trip, kneeled next to the injured woman and quickly began scanning Charlie's body, his mouth pursed in a severe line by the readings scrolling across his machine.

"Klingons," Charlie rasped, wincing when McCoy laid his hands and pressed on her injured rips. "They really don't like when you try to escape from them."

Jim's stare hardened, his gaze becoming as cold as ice as he took in her shackled, beaten form, unconsciously stroking her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand. As McCoy continued to scan, and inject a few pain relieving hyposprays, Jim stood, using a laser to cut gently through her bonds.

"Careful, Jim," McCoy warned when one of Charlie's arms became free. The doctor caught the appendage before it could fall, lowering it slowly to prevent her muscles from cramping. Charlie groaned as she was released, her hands tingling as blood flowed back through her veins. The same steps were repeated with her other arm until she was completely unbound, lying unaided against the wall. McCoy then set to work, running different instruments over her torso and head, the foggy haze of pain and injury slowly leaving Charlie's consciousness. Her eyes cleared, and strength began to return to her limps.

"That's all I can do for now," McCoy said, putting his instruments away, before helping Charlie shakily rise to her feet. "You need to take it easy though, Spitfire, you're just patched up. I need to get you back to the ship to finish the job."

Jim had stood off to the side to allow his CMO to work, but as soon as Bones tried to pull Charlie up, he was right by her side, supporting her as she gained her bearings.

"Are you alright?" Jim asked gently, once she was able to stand on her own, although he didn't remove his arm from around her shoulders.

"Yes, I think I'm okay," she said, glancing up into his blue gaze. Before Jim could say anything more, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep hug as she released one quiet sob. "I can't believe you came for me," Charlie whispered, clutching him as if her life depended on it.

Jim stood frozen for a moment, McCoy's befuddle stare almost causing him to laugh before Jim gave in and wrapped his arms around her frame, a sense of calmness filtering through his veins. She was alive, and relatively unharmed, much to his relief. He would make Sagan and Klingons pay for what they did, but he just wanted a few minutes to enjoy the feeling of her warm body held against his chest, and her arms around his neck.

"Of course I came for you," Jim whispered into her ear. "I will always come for you. I promise."

"Oh, I see how it is," McCoy grumbled. "I'm the one who heals you, but _he_ gets the hug."

Charlie laughed as she let go of Jim and turned to hug the doctor as well, her cheeks slightly flushed.

"Thank you, Doctor," Charlie said as she let him go.

"Now that's better," McCoy smiled, which turned into a smirk when he noticed Jim's slightly murderous gaze directed at him. Bones knew from the beginning that there was something sparking between the two, although the doctor doubted either one was directly aware of it.

"Come on," Jim said, grabbing Charlie's hand in his own. "We need to get out of here before we alert their sensors." Jim and McCoy blasted open the locked storage room door with their phasers, quickly entering the lab.

"Why can't we transport out?" Charlie asked as soon as she was through the door.

"We can't get the telemetry to get back," Jim said. "We were able to land, but the interference won't let the ship beam us out. We have to get to another area of the station away from whatever is causing our . . ." Jim's voice died off as he took in the giant machine within the lab. "I take it this is what's causing all the problems?"

Charlie nodded, staring at the machine as well. While it was a glorious piece of human engineering, it was the core reason behind her kidnapping. If it hadn't existed, Charlie very well could have been left alone back in 21st century. Even though the two men stared at the machine in awe, Charlie merely glared, hating the device as much as she hated the men who had abused her.

"Good God! What the hell does that behemoth do?" McCoy asked, walking up to get a closer look.

"Destroy the universe," Charlie muttered, both men snapping their heads to stare at her dumbfounded.

"What!" they both cried with their eyes widening.

"If Sagan has his way," she added. "But I'm not going to let that happen. Hold on a minute, I need to try something before we can get back to the _Enterprise._"

Charlie rushed over to the consoles where the professor stood earlier, Jim following behind. She may not be versed in 23rd century computer science, but there were core components she knew could not have changed in two hundred years. With deft fingers, Charlie isolated the necessary locked files, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Can't be," she whispered. Quickly grabbing an optical disc, she began transferring the research to the external computer holding the storage disc. Although they were secured within her relative's organic safe, Charlie was able to move the files around without opening them.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked, moving to stand closer to her as she manipulated the computer screen. "We need to get moving."

"Hold on," Charlie ordered, glancing up into Jim's blue gaze before averting her eyes again. "The files that my descendent – man that's weird to say – developed to run that _thing_ are on this computer. I'm trying to transfer as much of the information over to this external disc to try to keep them away from Sagan."

"Don't you need to unlock them first?" Jim asked.

"Apparently not," Charlie shrugged. "Edward was smart. He made these similar to zip files, and I have a feeling you don't have a lot of those around anymore."

"Not really, no," Jim agreed. "I'm not even sure what that is."

"Zip files are compressed, encrypted folders that can hold an abundant of information in smaller files," Charlie said. "They take up less storage space and can be transferred to other computers more quickly than uncompressed files, and you can combine a large grouping together. Edward probably used the technology to move all of his research quickly into his safe. I think it's rudimentary for you guys, but this way he could double encrypt everything quickly, and because it's so old, I doubt there is a compatible program to isolate and open them outside this station. You would have to use this system."

"Meaning you couldn't grab and run," Jim said.

"Exactly. You would have to stay here, and I think that would alert the necessary people before you were done. Kind of like the monkey hand in the coconut."

"Brilliant," Jim smiled, causing Charlie's cheeks to flush and her heart to beat a little harder. She quickly turned her attention back to processing the files, painfully aware how close Jim was standing to her side, her skin seeming to tingle from his nearness.

"You might want to hurry it up, Spitfire," McCoy grumbled as he walked around the machine. "We're already five minutes late to meeting the others at the designated rendezvous point."

"Almost done," Charlie called as she completed the last of the transferences and unplugged the mini-computer that held the disc. "Just need one more thing," she added as she hurried over to the humming device, reaching her hand into the blue mist, searching for the vial. She frowned when she felt nothing, waving her arm around trying to feel for the glass holder.

"Looking for this?" a familiar voice called, startling McCoy, Kirk, and Charlie.

Spinning around, both of the Starfleet officers withdrew their phasers quickly, pointing the weapons at a smirking Sagan. Whether Jim knew it or not, he stepped in front of Charlie, placing himself between her and the professor. In Sagan's hand was the very vial Charlie was looking for, his smirk growing when she groaned with annoyance as the glass reflected the lights of the room. Flanking Sagan were several Klingons, all with weapons and phasers pointed at the trio, waiting impatiently for the order to attack.

"Lay down your weapons," Kirk ordered, his voice strong and clear. "Under Federation order 2859.6 you are under arrest for the murder of Federation officers and the kidnapping of a civilian off a Federation starship."

Sagan laughed, placing the vial into the pocket of robes. "That's quaint, Captain, but seeing as you are outnumbered, I would recommend _you_ lay down your weapons so no one gets hurt: at least not severely."

"I don't think so," Jim growled, tightening his hand on the firearm as his eyes snapped between the Klingons and human, waiting for the attack.

"He's got a point, Jim," McCoy mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. "There's at least five Klingons and I don't know about you, but one seems a mighty handful, let alone five."

"I know, Bones," Jim responded in kind. "I'm just trying to figure a way out of this."

"Come now, Captain!" Sagan shouted when neither McCoy nor Kirk moved. "You don't want to have anyone hurt in this do you? Especially not Miss Noland seeing as you just got her back. It would be a shame if your actions caused her further injury."

"You keep away from her!" Jim spat, a myriad of venom behind his voice. Charlie's was slightly surprised at the conviction in his words. "You are not to go near her again. I am going to make you pay for what you did to her."

Again Sagan laughed. "Tell me, Captain, are you this protective of all of your women, or is there something special about this one?"

"Shut your mouth, Sagan," Kirk spat. "You know nothing about me, or those I care for."

"Apparently neither do they," Sagan taunted with a frown at Charlie's surprised glance to Jim. "Drop your weapons, Captain, and I swear no one will get hurt."

"No, don't do it!" Charlie ordered, sliding around Jim to stand at his shoulder. "He's lying. The minute you drop your phasers we're dead," she told the men, their fingers tightening around the triggers.

"Come now, Miss Noland," Sagan scolded, his gaze hardening. "Has our time together not taught you I mean what I say?"

"Only if it suits you, and if it doesn't you manipulate the situation until it does," Charlie spat. "The minute our phasers are lowered your little Klingon friends are going to get trigger happy. I can see it in their eyes." As if to add credence to Charlie's statement the aliens in question shifted, a couple growling out insults in Klingon.

"My, my, my, we are in a conundrum then aren't we?" Sagan sneered.

"No, we're not. Not really," Charlie shrugged. "You could just surrender."

"Decidedly not, Miss Noland."

"You've lost, Sagan," she emphasized. "You're just too blind to see it. Jim has authorization to arrest you. Your dreams to control the universe are over; give it up."

"NO!" Sagan shouted, the first drastic emotion he expressed causing the woman to take a subconscious step back, Jim immediately stepping in front to protect her. "I will not have you and this _Starfleet filth_ ruin everything I have worked for!" Sagan was physically shaking in his rage, his face bright red with a vein popping out on his forehead. "Starfleet is the cause of what is wrong with the universe, and it needs to be destroyed. How can you not see it?!

"Well, Miss Noland," he added, calming himself, is hands slicking back the hair from his face. "Neither you nor your friends will stand in my way, even if I have to bring every last one of your kin to the future. I _will_ have my power."

"Why do you hate Starfleet so much?" Charlie asked, realizing for the first time how much venom he seemed to generate towards the group.

"You would never understand, you silly girl," Sagan continued to rage. "As much as I have tried, you continue to see the world in black and white, good and evil. What you have failed to understand is that men accomplish evil deeds in the name of good, and those who you would condemn as villains are the heroes, though you disagree with their means."

"Starfleet is not like that," Charlie argued, although it sounded weak, even to her.

Sagan laughed a more mercurial, horrible laugh that was in itself was condescending. "Oh you really are naive. Do you think your precious Captain is without fault? That he follows the protocols of Starfleet to the letter, causing no harm?"

Charlie could practically feel Jim growl, his hand muscles flexing as he contemplated just shooting Sagan and ending the situation. However, the professor still held the vial in his pocket, and while the two men knew nothing of its importance, Charlie understood the significance of that little droplet. Trying to calm the situation, she gently laid her hand on Jim's bicep before he could fire, his firm, blue gaze snapping to her own amber stare as she silently told him to wait. His eyes narrowed, but he relaxed somewhat, and Charlie gave him a half smile, turning her attention back to Sagan.

"This is not about Jim, Sagan" Charlie firmly spoke. "This is about you, and I still don't understand how the Federation, which is designed for exploration, can cause you such ire."

"You can never comprehend how cruel they are, Miss Noland."

"Then explain it," Charlie challenged. "Why go back and alter the time continuum to destroy a peaceful force in the galaxy?"

"It is already altered!" Sagan raged, his accent becoming so thick he was hard to understand. The mixture of Russian and British was startling. "The minute that s_ooksin_ Romulan came to this universe, everything changed for the worse. I lost the one thing that meant more to me that you could ever understand!"

Jim and Bones glanced at each other, surprised by the amount of pain to come through Sagan's voice.

"Oh you think you know everything, Miss Noland," Sagan spat, taking a few steps closer before stopping when McCoy's phaser changed from the one particularly lethal looking Klingon to his chest. "You think you know sacrifice and pain; well you have never felt the pain that I have. I'm stopping Starfleet from taking away the one thing I hold the most dear."

"Yeah? What's that?" Jim barked.

"My wife."

Charlie could not stop herself from gasping. In all the time she spent with Sagan, he had never once hinted that he had been married. She could only stare, her anger toward every pain he ever caused her morphing into one of pity, seeing all the signs of a grieving man lost in his revenge.

"How the hell did they take your wife, Sagan?" Jim snapped as he watched each Klingon beginning to shift more and more. They were becoming impatient, which did not bode well for those present.

"Oh, you think you are so special, Captain Kirk," Sagan spat, pacing. "You were born in the middle of an unprovoked Romulan attack as your father sacrificed his life for yours. All this universe speaks about is the loss of such a great captain. But there were others who were killed, names forgotten by history. My wife was on the _Kelvin_. I bet you didn't know that."

Sagan was slowly breaking down, his frame ridged as he paced, and a wildness beginning to develop. It was strange for Charlie to see the man who was so self-assured and calm emotionally collapsing in front of her eyes.

"Oh yes, she was there," Sagan continued his rant, forgetting about his Klingon guards as he paced like a hyena waiting for the attack. "She was a medical doctor who had been summoned to engineering before the _Narada _came through the black hole, a silly ensign having his arm caught in a rotator. Within moments of the attack, she was blown out into space, her body never recovered.

"I warned her too, you see," Sagan insisted, his slicked hair falling in his face. "My father was a lesser admiral for the Federation when I was a child. He never seemed to want to be a father, always shipping me off to boarding schools in Russia and Britain, more concerned with Starfleet than his own son. When she tried to join, I said to her, 'Emily, if you do this, you will regret it. Starfleet will suck you away into space, and take over your life. It will take you away from me.' She only laughed, saying I was a silly fool for thinking anything could take her away. You remind me much of her, Miss Noland," he added softly, glancing up into the sad gaze of Charlie. "You have her stubbornness. She wanted to help people, she told me. Well look what that got her."

"You can't blame Starfleet for her fate, Sagan," Jim said. "She chose to go into space. She knew what was there."

"Spoken like a man who has never loved," Sagan asserted, glaring at the captain. "Would you not give anything to speak to your father, Kirk? To know what he would think of your life as the Hero of Earth?"

"Not at the cost of millions of men and women," Jim affirmed. "Maybe our lives were not supposed to end up as they have, but this is our universe and I won't have you change it. If you destroy Starfleet, you are setting the galaxy up for destruction. If your Klingon friends over here don't destroy every species they encounter, the Romulans certainly will. The Federation and Starfleet offer a balance."

"Oh what useless dribble. Tell me Captain, do they spoon-feed you that nonsense at the academy or are you especially cliché. I am offering a chance to bring back our families, Kirk. And when I am finished, you will have no idea that the universe you live in is any different to another. I _will_ have my wife again. I have waited for over twenty-seven years; I will not be stopped now."

"You're a fool, Sagan," Charlie whispered. "You will never have access to Edward's research, no matter how hard you try. You can't bring her back. No one can bring her back. She would not want this…"

"How do you know what she would want?!" Sagan shouted.

"Why didn't you just go back and get your wife then," McCoy asked, trying to calm the situation as Klingon trigger fingers became a little twitchy. "Why bring Charlie into the future?"

"Because, you simpering fool, I do not yet have the calculations for short range time travel. A century is the minimum length for a single body. That is why I need the research. I will be able to construct a machine that will allow for travel to any time in any dimension."

"You will create anarchy!" Jim cried. "The universe will dissolve into chaos."

"It is possible," Sagan shrugged, finally pulling himself back together. "But I will have my wife, and enough credits to buy us an isolated planet far away from the turmoil.

"So if you don't mind, lay down your weapons and hand over the woman. Now, Captain, or I will gladly keep you alive long enough so you can watch Miss Noland being ripped apart."

Both Jim and McCoy stepped in front of Charlie, blocking her from the gaze of Sagan and the Klingons.

"You want her?" Jim challenged. "Come and get her."

"As you wish," Sagan smiled. "_'avwI', HIv_. Kill them."


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Unleash Hell

**Chapter Sixteen: At My Signal, Unleash Hell**

"_You want her? Come and get her," Jim challenged._

"_As you wish," Sagan smiled. "_'avwI', HIv._ Kill them."_

One minute Charlie was standing behind Jim and Bones, her sight of Professor Sagan and his band of Klingons inhibited by the broad shoulders of both men, and the next she was on the ground behind the Red Matter Stabilizer with both Jim and McCoy unloading clips of their phasers to keep the Klingons at bay.

"'Come and get her', Jim?" McCoy remarked dryly. "Really? Why didn't you just wave a piece of putrid meat under their noses? Probably get the same effect."

"Do you have a better plan, Bones?" Jim quipped as he released another volley.

"Yea, not getting shot."

"Will you knock it off," Charlie snapped, grabbing her side as fresh waves of pain began to resurface. It appeared that the effects of the pain medication McCoy gave her were slowly diminishing with each minute. "Look, we need to get to Sagan. That vial he held up earlier is really important, and I'd like to get it before we either get blown to dust or he gets away."

"What's in the vial?" Jim asked, shielding Charlie when a phaser blast blew chunks of the wall onto the trio.

"My ticket home," she responded.

Jim froze, his eyes widening a fraction of a second as he stared at Charlie surprised. "Your what?"

"Hey, Jim? Don't know if you've noticed, but we have some pretty angry aliens trying to kill us so it would be great if, oh I don't know, you fire back?" McCoy snapped.

"Hold on, Bones," Jim said, his eyes never leaving Charlie. "He has what?"

Charlie sighed, feeling slightly guilty for some odd reason. "That vial is what is left of stabilized Red Matter. It's what Sagan used to bring my friends and I here. It's what can send us home."

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"Didn't exactly have the opportunity," Charlie shrugged, taking an extra phaser from McCoy who continued to grumble about useless captains. "I thought it was where I first found it, but I should have figured that Sagan would keep it on his person, since last time I stole it."

"You stole it?" Jim couldn't help but smile.

"Yea, that was partly the reason for my last beating," Charlie acknowledged sheepishly.

"Last beating?" both men yelled before ducking when a rather large torrent of phaser fire blew up around them.

"That's it, I'm gonna kill him," Jim barked as both he and McCoy sent an equally impressive wave of fire back at the group.

"No!" Charlie said. "You can't. If you blow up the vial, Kate, Philly, and I have no way home."

Jim growled, his jaw muscles flexing as he grounded his teeth.

"Please, Jim," she implored, her eyes wide and pleading. "I promised I would get them home, and this is the only way I can. You fulfilled your promise to me; let me do the same for them."

Jim scowled, but nodded. He shifted away from her to send out another attack, causing Charlie to frown.

"You know, as much as I love sending my head up to be the Klingons' personal whack-a-mole, how about we find a way out this?" Bones growled.

"I'm thinking," Jim remarked.

"We need a distraction," Charlie interjected, her mind already moving onto the next issue. "You know, divide and conquer kind of thing. Try to get Sagan isolated from the Klingons."

"No, absolute not," Jim asserted.

"Spitfire has a point, kid," McCoy agreed. "If we can get the group to separate, we might be able to pick them off easier. I've only been able to hit one, and that was a grazed shoulder."

"There's only three of us. How much are we going to separate for it to work?"

"But, you said we were meeting others. Can't they come and help us?" Charlie asked.

"I can try to get them on the communicator, but this damn machine is causing a lot of interference." For added emphasis, Jim banged against the hard metal frame.

"We have to try something," Charlie persisted. "If I can sneak around—"

"No!" Jim snapped, stunning Charlie into silence. "I lost you once, Charlie. I'm not going to risk losing you again." There was desperation to his eyes, and Charlie had a sneaking suspicious he was talking about more than just their current predicament.

"Then what would you recommend?" McCoy probed.

As Jim opened his mouth, his communiqué began beeping and flashing. "Kirk here."

"_Oy, laddie! Have you found the lass yet?_"

"Mister Scott! Boy am I glad to hear from you," Jim spoke into the receiver. Quickly, Charlie and McCoy shot at the two approaching Klingons, the trio moving further around the stabilizer, their protection slowly losing its protecting ability.

"_What's going on down there? Sounds like a war!_"

"A yea, about that. Listen Scotty, is that thing we were working on up and ready to run?"

"_Aye Cap'n, although I'm not sure how well it'll run _—"

"That's great," Jim interrupted, ducking as more and more phaser blasts erupted around him. "Listen, I need you to employ the shield as soon as you can. We have the professor in the main lab in the station. You know what to do."

Charlie and McCoy were doing their best to keep the Klingons at bay, but ever so slowly, they were gaining ground, and every second the pain was returning to Charlie. She was trying her best to aim accurately, but just holding the phaser up was beginning to aggravate her wounds.

"_But Cap'n!_" Charlie heard Scotty shout."_I'm no sure it 'as the capability with that much interference. You need to move away from whatever is disrupting the signals. I'm barely able to keep the communication open." _

"Just do it, Scotty! We can't get out otherwise. Kirk Out."

Suddenly, with a cry, Charlie fell back, shaking her hand and squeezing her eyes in pain.

"Spitfire!" McCoy shouted, sending two more rounds before dropping down next to her as Jim took over cover fire. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Charlie growled out through clenched teeth, shaking her still tingling hand as Jim looked on with concern as he fired a few more shots around the machine, finally hitting at least one Klingon in the chest. "One of them hit the phaser with their shot. It stung, but I think it shocked me more." She flexed her fingers, and finding no dramatic damage, went to retrieve her fallen weapon. With a groan, she held up the blasted apart pieces of the gun. "Guess that won't work anymore."

"Jim, even if we get that thing you and Scotty were working on going, there's still the matter of five, correction four very pissed off Klingons to deal with," McCoy shouted over the increasing volume of broken pipes. The stabilizer was beginning to take a mighty beating, and Charlie distantly heard Sagan's yell for the Klingons to be careful.

"I know, Bones," Jim answered. "We're backed into a pretty nasty corner and I can't see how to get out."

Just then, all the firing stopped, a thunderous silence filling the lab. Jim, McCoy and Charlie glanced between each other, not sure what was going on. A slight mist filled the area they were hiding, fogging their sight and putting the trio even further on edge.

"I will give you one more chance, Captain," Sagan shouted. "Throw down your weapons, and release Miss Noland, and I shall guarantee your death with be quick and painless, as will your other officer's."

"Jim, we have to do something," Charlie expressed, trying with all her strength to forget the torrents of pain in her system. The effect of the medication was completely out of her system, and she had a feeling McCoy hadn't brought that much with him to begin with. Sliding away from the wall she had been perched against, she grabbed his warm, free hand between her own, his fingers instinctually wrapping with hers. "Let me go out there—"

"What, no, you—" Jim's objection was cut off when Charlie laid her hand over his mouth.

"Will you let me finish?" she snapped. "I'm saying let me go out there, and draw the attention to me. When they're distracted, come out guns blazing and head for the lab door. I'll try to get to Sagan and get the vial, and you two draw the Klingons away."

"That's not a smart idea, Charlie," McCoy chastised as Charlie dropped her hand.

"Well what else can we do?" she asked. "We're stuck in this corner with no way out. I can at least give you two a chance to get away."

"Stop being such a fucking martyr" Jim growled, grabbing her shoulders as an emphasis. "We're going to get out, all three of us. I didn't come all this way to leave without you, Charlie. I will die first, before I let Sagan touch you again."

"I'm waiting, Captain!"

Jim growled, a bouquet of curse words spewing from his mouth as he released Charlie, looking around for anything that could be used to help them. Suddenly, Charlie's broken phaser began to pop and spark, sending out a couple phaser blasts and forcing the three to scuttle away quickly. It calmed down after a moment, lying on the ground peacefully as if it had never erupted, giving Jim an idea. Grabbing the destroyed weapon, he quickly opened a panel on the barrel and began to fiddle with a few of the controls. After a few twists and turns, he closed the panel, sending a mischievous smirk to a confused Charlie and McCoy.

"I have an idea. Be ready to back us up, Bones," Jim said, rising quickly and pulling Charlie up with him.

"What—" Charlie began, her eyes wide.

"Trust me," Jim interrupted, grabbing the back of her neck, and pulling her in for a soul-searing kiss. Charlie's eyes widened even more, stunned as his soft, warm lips moved against hers, tightening her core and sending electric shocks through her system. Slowly she closed her eyes as feelings of warmth cascaded through her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Slowly, Jim drew away, a cheeky grin on his face at her astonished expression.

"C'mon," he grinned, grabbing her hand as she disentangled herself from him, pulling the dazed woman behind him after tucking the broken weapon into the back of his trousers. "We're coming out!"

Carefully, Charlie and Jim headed around the stabilizer, raising their hands in the air to show they were unarmed. Charlie was staring at the back of Jim's head confusedly, having no idea what his plan of action was, her head spinning because she could still feel his lips on her and she felt overly warm in the cold station. As they emerged from the mists, Sagan was standing in the middle of the room, a smirk playing on his lips with his arms clasped behind his back.

"You made the right decision, Captain," Sagan grinned as he gestured for the four Klingons to move in to grab the two humans.

As the aliens moved closer, a high-pitched whine echoed through the lab causing the Klingons to pause, looking around for the source of the noise. As it rose in volume, they realized it was coming from Jim and Charlie who arms were still raised in surrender. The Klingons quickly lifted their weapons to fire at the pair, but quick as a flash Jim had withdrawn the overloading phaser. He tossed it in the air between the Klingons before leaping to the side, pulling Charlie with him to take refuge behind a console. The phaser exploded, sending a huge pulsing wave into the lab, blowing Sagan back and killing two of the Klingons with the others severely injured. As soon as the explosion was over, McCoy had emerged, shooting the two remaining Klingons before they could regain their feet.

Jim and Charlie emerged from behind the console, Charlie clutch her sides from the dive behind the barrier, her injured ribs protesting from the quick movement but otherwise unharmed.

"Jesus Jim, next time you jerry-rig a bomb, a little heads up would be nice," McCoy growled, his phaser still held securely in his hand as he nudged the Klingons with his foot to make sure they wouldn't be getting up.

Jim grinned as he and Charlie walked up to Bones, slapping him on the back.

"Makes life a little more interesting, don't you think?" Jim joked. McCoy only rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself.

"You fool!" Sagan shouted as he slowly got to his feet. His slicked back grey hair was all disheveled and parts of his robes were singed. He also sported a small cut on his cheek and was holding himself awkwardly. "You will regret this, Kirk," the professor growled, removing a powerful phaser from under his robes, aiming right at Jim's chest.

Charlie watched, as if the whole action was occurring in slow motion. She saw how Sagan lined up his shot, and the moment he pulled the trigger. Driven by an innate sense, she tried to jump in front of Jim, her instinct to protect him at all costs. His eyes wide, he caught her by her arms and threw her at Bones as the jet of light flew from end of Sagan's weapon, its deadly trajectory aimed at his heart.

Charlie screamed as she was tossed aside, her head connecting with McCoy's chest with a thud as her arms came up to catch on his biceps while he caught her elbows. Charlie spun around, expecting Jim to fall towards the ground from the hit only to see him standing unhurt with a shocked smile on his face. Glancing over to an angry Sagan, Charlie watched as he tried to send off another bullet of plasma merely to have it reverberate when it hit a cylindrical shield that surrounded the professor, hitting the barrel and destroying the weapon in his hand. Charlie gave off a relieved laugh, surprised to see Sagan's own tool used against him while she disentangled herself from Bones.

Once the man realized he was caught, Sagan dropped his arm, a sense of wariness masking his features as he acknowledged his defeat. He seemed to deflate in front of the trio, his sense of purpose now gone forever. Charlie could not stop the pity that entered her system, realizing that for his actions toward her, the man was only trying to bring his wife back. While that did not excuse or condone his behavior, Charlie sympathized with the beaten man. Shoving those thoughts aside, however, Charlie turned toward Jim, a huge smile across his face, and punched him in the arm as hard as she could.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Jim yelled, reaching up to massage his now aching shoulder.

"If you ever toss me away from you like that again, Jim Kirk, you'll end with a lot worse that a punched shoulder," she growled, her warm amber eyes as hard as shards of glass as she frowned at the captain. "I was trying to save you, you jerk."

McCoy laughed behind them while Jim stared disbelievingly at the petite woman, her glare something to behold. Then, in normal Kirk fashion, he reached out and wrapped his arm around Charlie's waist, bringing her right into his chest with a small "oomph!"

"I promise I won't toss you away from me again," he whispered huskily, smiling when a blush rose on her cheeks. With a groan, McCoy turned away grumbling something about teenagers as he wandered away towards the captive professor.

Charlie didn't know where to look, Jim's gaze far too intense to stare at for long, her breath short as limbs shook. Self-consciously she pushed herself out of his arms, the frantic beatings of her heart too much for her to bear after the trials of the few days. She wanted to kiss him again, to retain those feelings of warmth and joy as his arms wrapped around his and lips moved against hers. He was like a drug, and she knew she could become addicted quickly if she didn't watch herself.

Jim reluctantly let her go, his arms dropping to his sides although the smile remained on his face. He didn't want to let her go, but taste the exquisiteness that was Charlotte Noland. He had kissed more women of varying species than he'd care to admit, but none had done to him in one kiss what that 21st century woman had.

"Nice try, buddy," Charlie glowered, turning away from him and bringing him back into the present. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."

With a chuckle, Jim caught up to her side and reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining. Charlie stopped and glanced down at their joined hands, the butterflies still flying through her system. Jim also glanced down at their locked fingers, his smile growing just from pleasure caused by the contact, a feeling he had never experience before. Relief washed through him that they had escaped with little to no injuries, although he was beginning to notice the changes in Charlie's posture, and recognized McCoy's hypos must have run their course.

Glancing up into Jim's eyes, Charlie gave a very soft smile before she began to follow McCoy, her intent to retrieve the vial of Red Matter from Sagan. Jim and Charlie hadn't moved more than a foot when suddenly four more Klingons rushed into the lab, surprising the trio of humans as well as themselves. Jim yelled for Charlie to duck as both he and McCoy raised their weapons to fire at the new opponents. Charlie quickly kneeled behind a console as light burst from both McCoy and Kirk's weapons, hitting the same Klingon and knocking him against the back wall, leaving the other three to dodge out of the way. Just as the aliens resurfaced to fire at the Starfleet men, three consecutive shots sprang out from the doorway to the lab, stunning the Klingons and dropping them like flies. Both Jim and McCoy kept their phasers raised when Spock and Uhura entered the room, their weapons drawn as well.

"Boy am I glad to see you, Commander," McCoy remarked dropping his arm as Jim went to help Charlie to her feet.

"The sentiment is returned, Doctor," Spock remarked, holstering his weapon as he gestured for Uhura to do the same. "The lieutenant and I grew concerned when you failed to meet at the rendezvous point with Miss Noland."

"We had a few issues to deal with," Jim said gesturing to the side where a wearied Sagan stood, watching the exchanges with dispassionate eyes. Spock's brow rose in surprise when he noticed the caged man.

"I see," he said.

"It's good to see you Commander, Lieutenant," Charlie said with a smile once she had dusted herself off. She was more than a little pleased that they didn't have to battle any more Klingons before the group could get back to the ship.

"You as well, Miss Noland," Spock replied with a nod to his head. "I am glad to see you are well."

She shrugged, hissing in pain when it pulled on her injuries, her hand reaching up to grab her ribs. "Ah, as well as can be."

"C'mon, we better get you back to the ship before you do anymore damage to yourself," Jim remarked, wrapping his arm around Charlie's shoulders protectively, a surprise glance flickering from Uhura to McCoy who just shrugged.

"What do we do 'bout him?" McCoy questioned, gesturing to a glaring professor.

Before Jim could answer, Charlie moved from under his arm and walked up to the man, staring in his detached gaze with one of her own as the others stood and watched, unsure of what to do.

After a moment of silence starring, she whispered, "All this, for what?" gesturing to the destroyed lab. "I am not sorry you lost, Sagan. I told you that we would beat you." Sagan only glared at the woman, having no other means to show his displeasure. Ignoring his malcontent, she continued, "But I am sorry that life dealt you such a hand of cards. It's never fair for anyone to have those they love taken from them."

"Sentiment," Sagan sneered, staring down his nose at her like a speck of dirt on his boot. "Love for humanity; for Starfleet. I had hoped that as one from the past you could see the organization for what it is. Instead, you just disappointed me."

"No," Charlie said shaking her head. "No, I didn't disappoint you. If I had given up, if I had never fought back, then I would have. As you said before, I'm just like your Emily, even if you don't want to fully admit it. I understand now. That is why you protected and healed me when the Klingons wanted me dead. It's why after I escaped you didn't just shoot me. You try to act as if you could care less, but you do, probably more than any of us will ever understand."

"Let me guess, this is a ploy to get the vial of Red Matter so you and your friends can go home."

"I am going to ask you for it, yes," Charlie agreed. "But not right now. Right now, you need to think about what you've done. What Emily would think of what you've done."

A sense of satisfaction wafted over Charlie as Sagan's eyes widened, his own punishment thrown back at him. Spinning on her heel, she headed back to Jim, her head held high.

"I'm ready now. Get me off this bloody station," she muttered, wiping the single tear that rolled down her cheek. Jim nodded, his sense of admiration growing for Charlie's strength. Even after everything that happened to her, to which he only had the basic knowledge of, she was able to look the man who hurt her in the eye and show she was not beaten. With a smile, Jim wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him when suddenly the station gave a great shake, throwing the group to the ground.

"What now," Jim groaned, getting to his feet as he whipped out his communique, his hand reaching down to help Charlie. "Kirk to _Enterprise._ Something just hit the station. What's going on?"

"_Something's firing at your location!_" Sulu's voice echoed around the chamber. "_We're attempting to isolate the signature, but we can't seem to locate the ship that's attacking_."

As if in response, the station rocked again, more violently than the first.

Sagan began laughing, watching the turmoil of the Starfleet officers with barely controlled glee. "Fools! Did you think I would not establish security checks for just this sort of occasion?! Since it has been well over an hour since my last check in with the _Mor'Tah,_ they have orders to destroy this station unless I give them code to stop."

"Then send the order, Sagan!" Jim shouted.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Captain," Sagan smirked, enjoying the helplessness on the faces of those surrounding him. "If I can't have access to this research, no one can, which means Miss Noland will have no way home." Charlie's eyes widened as the man grinned.

With an explicative curse, Jim snapped into the communique, "_Enterprise,_ beam us up before we're blown into stardust."

"_There's too much interference, Cap'n!_" Scotty shouted, joining the discussion. "_Wherever yer at is messing with the transporter signal! I can't get a lock on ye!_"

"You heard the man," Jim said as the station shook for a third time. "Let's get out of here!"

Spock, Uhura, and McCoy quickly ran out of the lab down the hallway, trying to get far enough away for Scotty to lock onto their signal. Charlie and Jim, however, quickly headed over to where Sagan was still standing, Jim picking up a Klingon phaser on the way.

"Don't think you aren't making it out of here with us," Jim growled as he held the phaser pointed at Sagan, quickly ordering Scotty to drop the shield. The professor glared, his hatred toward the captain palpable.

Charlie also grabbed a phaser, just to be on the safe side, though the constant rocking of the station was persistently aggravating her injuries. Grinding her teeth against the pain, she held the phaser the best she could as she watched the field containing the man dissolved like water. With his hands in the air in surrender, Sagan calmly left the lab with Jim and Charlie close behind, the barrel of Jim's weapon almost buried in the man's back. After a few hundred yards down the hallway, Scotty shouted over the comm that he had a lock on all three of them, the others having already beamed aboard the _Enterprise._ Within seconds, white dots began to appear in front of Charlie's eyes, and in welcomed relief, she watched as the station dissolved around her, bringing her back to the one place she had dreamed about every night for the last week. _The Enterprise. _She was going home.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Bullshitting You

**Chapter Seventeen: I Took the Liberty of Bullshitting You**

Slowly the white dissolved from the front of Charlie's eyes, bringing the transporter room of the _Enterprise_ into focus. An overwhelming sense of joy for being back onboard the starship enveloped the woman, her feelings of being home surprising her. But that was how she felt the moment she stepped off the pad, glancing around at the beaming faces of the crew surrounding her; that she was home and safe, and nothing could ever harm her again. It was that sense of satisfaction that carried Charlie through the throng of people, all of them stopping to pat her on the back or supply their relief she had returned. Their actions confused Charlie, having only met a few of the crew before her kidnapping, but the subtle glances directed toward the captain made Charlie realize they were happy she was back _for him,_ an idea that brought heat into her cheeks.

Jim made it through the people with Bones right behind, quickly heading over to Scotty and slapping the man on his back painfully in thanks for the Chief Engineer's quick response. Without Scotty's skill and impeccable timing, Jim could only guess that could have happened down on that station. Glancing up, Jim noted Charlie standing off toward the side, the confidence she had first displayed when leaving the transporter morphing into hesitance at all the attention directed towards her. He didn't know the full extent yet of what she had endured under Sagan, but the hallowed look in her eyes and her subtle jumping when someone made a quick movement told Jim all he needed to know. With a growl, he quickly ordered the team of waiting security to escort the good doctor down to the brig, a sense of satisfaction at the deadened gaze of the professor.

Charlie noted out of the corner of her eye as the red shirted security led Sagan away, relaxing fully once he was out of sight. She was trying to stop her knee-jerk reactions to jump when someone so much as sneezed, but she couldn't help herself. She was having a hard time believing she was really back on the _Enterprise_. While her initial response was one of relief and joy, now she was just waiting for something bad to happen. After a week living in constant fear, she was having a difficult time controlling her anxiety that something terrible was about to happen.

Biting her lip subconsciously in thought, Charlie stared as the doors to the transporter room closed. She was so lost in thought, she didn't notice Jim walking up to her until he spoke quietly, "How are you doing?"

Charlie jumped, biting her lip hard enough to draw a tiny droplet of blood. Running her tongue over the new little wound she replied, "I'm fine, Jim."

"Yes I can see that," he sarcastically remarked.

She looked away from his penetrating gaze, taking a deep breath. Her first instinct was to run, to bury her emotions so she wouldn't have to deal with the pain that came from the look of disappointment she would see. But with a resounding start, Charlie realized that Jim was not her father, and that he would not see her fear as a sign of weakness. Jim had never once looked at Charlie in disappointment because she couldn't hide behind an emotionless mask, and in fact he more often than not tried to get her to _express_ what she was thinking. He cared about her, and he wanted to help her.

Charlie could feel something unfurl inside her, a light and strength even greater than the one she found while imprisoned. She noticed the room become sharper, her mind clearing, her heart pounding with renewed vigor. She tingled from her head to her toes, and when she brought her eyes back to stare resoundingly into Jim's concerned blue gaze, Charlie knew she found what she had unwittingly been searching for: acceptance.

"You're right," she said with a small smile. "I'm not fine. But I will be, and I have a feeling you're going to help me with that."

Jim grinned, his eyes crinkling as a sparkle shined out. "Is that a call for duty?" he teased.

"Only if you answer it."

Just then, the ship gave a great lurch to the side, throwing the personnel still in the transporter room off balance, the red alert klaxons blaring. Jim fell into Charlie, his quick reflexes the only thing stopping his body from crushing into hers as his hands came out to brace on either side of her head.

"Okay, I'm really beginning to get annoyed here," Kirk growled as he pushed away from the wall, helping Charlie regain her balance.

"Jim you best get up to the Bridge," McCoy suggested as he marched over to the pair. "I have a feeling our Klingon party buddies found our little hiding place."

Jim, his mouth hardening into a thin line, nodded once in agreement and brought his back to Charlie, reaching up to stroke her cheek before following McCoy out.

"Wait, I'm coming with you," Charlie quickly affirmed, following behind the pair.

"No, you're not," Jim answered, spinning around to address her.

"Yes, I am," she declared firmly.

"Charlie, no. You're injured, probably more than you're letting on. I'm ordering you to sickbay with Bones."

"I'm not your crew, you cannot order me anywhere."

"You're on _my_ ship, so yes I can order you to do something. I am the Captain," he growled as the ship shook again.

"Please Jim. I need to see this. What they did to me . . . please."

Jim stared into her insistent brown eyes, her desperation to accompany him onto the bridge tangible. Just when Jim thought he had seen all the sides of her, she presented an avenue of her personality he never thought possible, and watching as she begged caused Jim to feel disgusted that he had to force her to.

Running a hand through his hair in agitation, Jim grumbled, "I swear, woman. You are the most stubborn creature in this universe."

"Yes I am, so can we just fast forward to the point where you agree to let me on the Bridge, or do we have to hash out the whole argument?"

"Don't just stand there, Bones," Jim snapped turning to his friend who quickly raised his arms up in defense.

"Sorry, Jim, I'm staying out of this one."

"Dammit, aren't you a doctor? She needs medical help!"

Charlie's eyes narrowed threateningly as she crossed her arms, practically snarling at the Captain.

"Yea, Jim, I am, and since I am responsible for her wellbeing, I think it's prudent for her mental state to have closure."

"Thank you, Doctor," Charlie gestured.

"Traitors, the both of you. I'm reporting this as mutiny," Jim grumbled, spinning on his heel and heading toward the turbolift with Charlie and McCoy right on his heels, smirking at each other.

All too soon the three were on the Bridge, the chaos in the command center from the attack a shock to Charlie. Distantly she heard Chekov shout, "Captain on the Bridge!" and watched as Spock moved from the captain's chair to his station, Jim taking his place. Just seeing him sitting in the chair, ready for the fight stirred deep feelings of adoration in her. Jim belonged in that chair, in that fight just as she belonged next to him. At that moment and in that time, she was where she belonged.

Sulu, Uhura, Spock and others were calling out readings and reports from on and around the ship, the Bridge shifting as another wave of phaser blasts hit the _Enterprise's_ hull.

"Shields down to sixty-five percent," Sulu shouted, his fingers flying across his console as he maneuvered the starship to avoid the majority of the fire.

"Sir, injuries are reported on deck ten through fifteen," Spock spoke, his calmness a solid foundation for the rest of the crew. "Engineering reporting no significant damage to the warp core, but torpedo bays ten, fifteen, and twenty-two are down."

"I need to get down to sickbay," McCoy whispered in Charlie's ear as he turned to leave. "Watch yourself, alright? And as soon as this shindig is over, I want you in my office ready to be poked and prodded until I deem you fit and healthy again. No excuses. You can say no to the captain; you can't say no to me." His gaze bore into Charlie's firmly, brokering no room for argument. With a nod for affirmation, the doctor patted Charlie on the shoulder and headed into the lift.

Turning back around, the young woman observed the controlled chaos surrounding her. The ship gave another great shake as the Klingon Bird-of-Prey targeted the _Enterprise_, the crew shouting out new readings and reports as the new damage was taken stock. Not knowing what else she could do, having no value on the Bridge other than observation, she reached her hand out and grasped Jim's shoulder to give the only thing she had to offer: support. She knew she needed to be on the Bridge, to be there whether they won the fight or not, but she still felt useless observing everyone at their posts.

Jim reached up and grasped her hand in his own, angling his head up to give Charlie a reassuring smile, squeezing her fingers in response. Although they were battling an unseen enemy in the deeper reaches of space with no known reinforcements, the feeling of her warm hand in his own after the trials of the last week and a half was enough to give Jim the strength to battle a thousand Klingons. He could not define the moment she changed everything for him, but Jim now understood what Sagan had meant back on the station, why his father sacrificed himself for his mother. Jim would gladly die to protect his crew, but for Charlie he would do so much more and it terrified him the sincerity of his emotions.

He sent Charlie a cheeky smirk, his heart pounding in his chest when she gave him one of her own and turned back to the view screen.

"Sulu, evasive maneuver Alpha six, and fire a wide spread of pulse cannons. Can anyone get a lock on that ship before we're blown into the next century?" Kirk snapped as the _Enterprise_ swung around, narrowly missing another barrage of fire from the invisible ship.

"Negative, Captain," Spock calmly spoke. "I am attempting to isolate the firing signature, but the ship appears to be moving in an indeterminable pattern, limiting the capabilities of our scanners. Mr. Chekov, can you compensate the propulsion of their impulse power? Perhaps we can harness the trajectory of their engines to pinpoint their location."

"I am trying, Commander," Chekov answered, his fingers flying across his screen. "But wizout knowing their current location, I cannot predict their intended telemetry."

"Do what you can, Ensign," Kirk ordered as the ship gave another great heave, this time several consoles on the bridge blowing up in an array of sparks and flashes. "But make it quick," he added after checking that his tactical officer was uninjured.

"Shields down to forty percent, Captain!" Sulu shouted. "I don't think we can take any more direct hits like that!"

Charlie stood there, gripping Jim's shoulder in an iron clasp, her thoughts flashing through all the battles she could remember learning, trying to remember anything that could aid in their fight against the Klingons. The ships were obviously circling, although the other could not be seen. Spinning around, the crew was partially blinded as the light from the nearest star blasted onto the bridge.

"Screen polarize," Kirk shouted, raising his hand to shade his eyes until the light was filtered out.

"Of course," Charlie breathed to herself, her heart racing as an idea formed in her head. "Sluys."

"What did you say?" Jim asked, spinning around to address the stunned woman who was unaware she had spoken aloud.

"Sluys, Jim! Sluys!" she shouted grinning, seeing the checkmate the large group of Klingons were about to fall into.

"What the hell is that?"

"The battle of Sluys, France in 1340! My undergrad dissertation was on it. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. Ensign Chekov," Charlie shouted addressing the surprised teenager. "Is it possible to modify a photon torpedo so when it is released it sends out a pulse wave with a large blast? You know, like a really bright light similar to a firework? Oh! Do you have thermite?"

"Uh, aye?" he agreed confusedly.

"What is your proposal, Miss Noland?" Spock questioned from his station. The crew on the bridge had come to a bit of a standstill, looking at Charlie confusedly.

"Please tell me you know about this battle?" At the blank stares directed at her, Charlie practically groaned. "Alright, it's simple. The English were able to defeat the French at the battle of Sluys during the Hundred Years War because when they came from the east at dawn, they were able to use the rising sun to blind the French and illuminate the French ships for their archers. If we can modify a torpedo with something like thermite, and maneuver the Klingons so they're facing that star," she pointed out the view screen, "We can blow up the torpedo and blind them, and maybe highlight their ship. Although their cloaking device is from the future, their ship isn't. Sagan told me he had to hardwire it into the mainframe. If it's a large enough shockwave, it might be enough to short it out," she finished in a rush, her face flushed by the spike in her adrenaline.

"Will it work?" Jim questioned, turning to Spock who had his head tilted, listening intently to Charlie's idea.

"While the modifications Miss Noland speaks of are highly irregular with a twenty-eight percent chance of success, I think it is possible to disrupt the Klingon attack as she suggests. However, their cloaking device still renders their ship invisible."

The ship gave another great shake, causing Charlie to clench Jim's shoulder harder, the man wincing. With a quick apology she released him, her hand moving to the chair. Her adrenaline was keeping her pain at bay, but the longer she went, the greater the pain she was experiencing. They needed to end that fight, and end it soon.

"I can narrow down the location of their ship," Uhura voiced from the back. "I can modify the sensors to pick up the pulse wave when they fire their torpedoes. It won't be exact, but it will be in the ball park."

"Do it!" Kirk shouted as Sulu was deftly able to dodge another spread of projectiles from the _Mor'Tah_.

Chekov nodded and quickly communicated with Scotty the modifications Charlie requested as Uhura worked with her communication controls. Within moments, the Russian genius sent down the calculations needed to create a very large Fourth of July spectacle.

"You sure about this?" Jim asked Charlie quietly as they waited to hear back from Scotty.

"I'm not sure about anything right now, Captain," Charlie acknowledged grimly. "But it is a tactic that was very successful; I don't see why it can't work here. Think your crew can get it done?"

"I know they can," he affirmed with conviction. "If we make it out of this, remind me to thank whatever power is out there they sent me a military brat."

Charlie rolled her eyes and lightly punched Jim in the arm, his grin contagious. Seconds later Chekov informed them Scotty had made the modifications to the torpedoes and they were ready to engage.

"Mr. Sulu, alter course until you have Klingon ship within range per Lieutenant Uhura's recommendations," Jim ordered as Uhura nodded that she was set.

The next few minutes here tense on the bridge as the helmsman and communication officer played a highly dangerous form of chess with the unsuspecting Klingons. The _Enterprise _took several more hits before Uhura signaled that the last volley of fire sounded if the ship was where Charlie had recommended.

"Now, Chekov!" Kirk shouted just as the _Mor'Tah_ sent out a wave of fire. With deft fingers, the navigator released the modified torpedoes, the energy of the enemy ship's pulse cannons setting off the projectiles as they made contact across the no man's land separating the ships. The explosion was huge and bright, the involvement of the self-oxidizing thermite with the protons increasing the energy and propelling it further and faster. Even with the polarized view screen engaged, the light from the explosion was still a remarkable sight.

The _Enterprise_ shook as the gas from the explosion passed by them, the energy unable to dissolve in the vacuum of space. Charlie was pleasantly surprised that her idea had worked, her theory feeling as if she was grasping at straws. After the wave passed, Spock, who had been monitoring the surrounding space as the explosion occurred at the science station, quickly confirmed that the explosion had in fact highlighted the Klingon ship like water over a rock.

"Fire at the last known location," Jim ordered, sitting up further into his chair, his focus solely on the view screen. "Give them everything we've got."

Without further encouragement, Chekov and Sulu let loose a barrage of fire in the location of the vessel, verifying contact was made by small explosions randomly appearing in space. Suddenly, like water rippling the Klingon ship appeared, its rusted and damaged hull a surprising sight from all the gloating Sagan had done. Sulu and Chekov were fortunate enough, or maybe lucky enough to have disabled the cloaking device.

"Captain, we're being hailed," Uhura called from her station, her brown eyes radiating the astonishment everyone else was feeling.

"On screen," Kirk ordered, standing up from his chair as Spock walked down to join him. Charlie hung back, knowing the intimidating sight of the Klingon captain was not one she wanted to see. She heard the growl of the angry Klingon as he appeared on the view screen, the terror he lent her like a knife into her heart.

"I am Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_, and I order you to withdraw immediately—"

"You will pay for this, Human," the alien spat interrupting Kirk, Charlie wincing by the venom laced through his words.

"I doubt that," Jim asserted, his own fury barely held in check. While Sagan's arrest had tempered his anger, the Klingon was unfortunate enough to have escaped. "The doctor has already been apprehended, and the woman you held is back onboard the _Enterprise._ Under Federation order 2859.6, I order you to surrender your ship in response to aiding and abiding the criminal Sagan."

"Death first before a Klingon surrenders to a Human," Kretorg challenged with a growl. "Keep the doctor and woman; they are no use to me anymore. Your annihilation is all I require."

"Well sorry to disappoint, but that's not going to happen," Jim hissed. "Surrender or we will destroy your ship."

"_Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam_," he growled in Klingon before the view screen switched off.

"What did he say," Jim rounded on Uhura, who sat resolute at her station.

Straightening her spine, her lips pursed in a hard line she answered, "It is a good day to die."

Jim nodded once, turning to his First Officer who in his normal fashion softly agreed, "There is no alternative, Captain."

Finally, Jim glanced back to Charlie, her wide brown eyes fearful, but strength radiated like a golden sun. Her jaw was clenched from both her terror and her anger, her free hand clenched in a fist. "If death is what he wants, who are we to deny him?" she said. "And if we go down, I want to go down fighting."

"I couldn't have said it better," he agreed, heading back to his chair, stopping in front of Charlie who gave him an infinitesimal nod in affirmation before he spun and sat. "Give them hell."

"Aye, Sir," Sulu and Chekov echoed as they powered up the rest of their weapons supply.

Just as they were about to release the horde Uhura shouted, "Captain, the_ Endurance_ has just warped to our port side, and I'm reading two other incoming ships!"

"Uhura, inform them of the situation and request assistance in taking down this ship. Fire at will, Ensign," Jim ordered, turning his attention back to Chekov.

"Aye, Sir," he responded firmly, releasing a volley of photon torpedoes toward the damaged Klingon vessel. Within moments, the _Endurance_ also fired their own weapons, quickly followed by the other two ships that had just dropped out of warp. The Klingon vessel never stood a chance as it exploded in a massive fireball from the barrage of heavy fire.

Jim smiled as he released the breath he didn't know he was holding, the tension since he beamed down to the station easing from his frame.

"Hail the _Endurance_, Lieutenant," he ordered, standing up.

Uhura nodded, and sent out the request to the other starship. Seconds later Captain Harris's visage filled the screen. "Hello again, Captain Harris," Jim said with a cocky smile, his relief evident.

"Hello yourself, Captain Kirk," Harris answered. "Heard you were in a bit of a predicament so I'd thought I'd lend a hand. I expected the Klingons to be a bit sportier, though."

"Trust me, Captain; they pack a punch when they want to."

"Indeed," Harris acknowledged grimly as someone whispered into his ear. "Our scans indicate your ship took a bit of a beating. My engineers are standing by should you require extra help with repairs."

"Thank you, Captain," Jim acknowledged. "I'll inform my transporter room to expect your team's arrival."

"Of course, Kirk. We need to watch each other's backs out here."

"I agree," Jim nodded. "Thank you for coming to our aid."

Harris nodded once before finishing, "Well I let you to your repairs. As soon as you're ready, my engineers will beam over. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, Captain. I think you have helped us out quite well."

"Anytime, Kirk. Anytime. Harris out."

The screen returned to its default position, the silence on the bridge deafening. Charlie could do nothing but stand there, her gaze dropping to the ground as the events for the past few hours echoed in her head. She was home, she was alive, and Sagan had lost. She didn't know how it had happened, the odds of her escape so small she had disregarded it as a fantasy. Her body pulsed with the adrenaline and endorphins pumping through her blood and she was subtly shaking from their effects. With a quick laugh from the giddiness she was experiencing, she glanced up, noticing that Jim stood in front of her, his smile wide and his blue eyes sparking.

"It's done now," he whispered, brushing a bit of hair out of her face. "You're safe. Nothing will harm you again."

Charlie let out a loud, wet sob as she threw her arms around Jim's neck, the rest of the ship erupting in cheers as Jim spun her around in joy. As soon as he released her, she grabbed her side, her injuries protesting the movement.

"Oh, crap I forgot," he apologized, holding her as she breathed through her nose while the wave of pain died. "We need to get you to sickbay."

Charlie straightened and nodded, then shuffled her way to the turbolift, Jim holding onto her like a porcelain doll, afraid she would break at any moment.

"Jim, I'm fine," she breathed exasperated by his gentle handling. "I can make it to sickbay on my own. You need to stay to begin organizing repairs. Your ship needs you."

"They can handle it. You need—"

"Sickbay, I know," she interrupted. "You're needed here."

Jim stopped, glancing around as he crew slowly began their repair work. "Are you sure? I can leave Spock—"

"Jim, you're the Captain. Thanks for the concern, but I can do it."

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly. "But I'll be down once everything is settled."

Charlie smiled, and reached down, gripping Jim's hand in her own as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll expect you, Captain."

She turned and entered the lift, watching the door close on a concerned looking Jim before letting out a large breath and relaxing into the wall, her eyes squinted in pain. As soon as the doors opened for sickbay, Charlie was unsurprised to see the controlled chaos erupting around her as the injured crew from the skirmish hobbled their way in. McCoy looked up from his PADD as he examined one red shirted crewmember, noticing Charlie standing in the doorway. With a jerk of his head, he indicated an empty biobed, and with a responding nod, Charlie shuffled over before settling onto the bed with a painful sigh.

As soon as he completed his scans and set a nurse to begin the necessary procedures, McCoy turned and headed over to Charlie, a hypospray already in his hand. Gently, McCoy released the drugs into Charlie's bloodstream, a sigh of contentment leaving her lips as her pain eased.

"Better?" McCoy verified with a small smirk.

"Much," Charlie grinned. "Knew you could be gentle with those things you sadistic bastard."

McCoy laughed as he ran his tricorder over Charlie's body. "Only when you don't annoy me."

"I never annoy you!" Charlie laughed in response, wincing when it hurt her injured ribs.

Rolling his eyes, McCoy said, "alright, Spitfire, stay still. I only used a Band-Aid when my regenerator was needed back on the station. This might take a while."

Charlie nodded and laid back, allowing the doctor to heal the menagerie of wounds that rocked her frame for the last few days. An hour later, sickbay died down, the majority of smaller injuries treated and released, leaving only Charlie and about six other critically injured crew. Charlie was already feeling remarkably better than before. Her bruises and smaller cuts mostly gone, and her ribs no longer burned everything she took a breath. While McCoy reiterated she was still in for a bit of haul, Charlie was in better spirits than the last time she was under his care.

She was sitting up and smiling when Jim walked into sickbay, her laugh echoing around as Bones said something amusing to her. Neither noticed his presence, so he took a moment just to observe the woman who filled his heart with such joy, leaning casually against the wall. Jim could never remember meeting anyone as strong as her. Instead of breaking down the moment she was back on the _Enterprise_, she faced her ordeals with her head held high and a smirk on her face. Jim wondered if there was anything in the universe that could break her after what he's seen her go through.

Charlie glanced away and noticed him standing in the doorway, her eyes softening as they met his blue gaze. With a small smile, he pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to the pair.

"How are you doing?" Jim asked once he made it to her side.

"I'm so much better," she smiled. "Doctor McCoy should be called a miracle worker for what he's done for me."

"As many times I've had to patch you up, Spitfire, I'll agree to that assessment," McCoy gruffly remarked.

"How are the repairs going?" Charlie asked after rolling her eyes.

"They're underway. We're in a position now to beam aboard the station again, and take a look at the research Sagan was so hungry to get his hands on."

"No," Charlie ordered firmly.

"No? What do you mean no?" Jim questioned, surprised by her firm rebuke.

"You won't be able to get to it."

"Yes we can. You're here, and with Scotty working on it, we'll get that safe cracked in no time."

"No Jim," Charlie reiterated, shaking her head. "I mean you won't be able to open it. _I_ won't be able to open it. No one will ever be able to open that safe and get Edward's research. And I don't think they should."

"But Sagan—"

"Was a fool who couldn't see the real truth past his own ambitions."

Jim breathed, running a hand through his hair. He was surprised by the level of resistance Charlie was putting up. "I don't understand," he finally muttered.

Charlie bit her lip in agitation, before confessing, "I knew no matter what he tried my blood was never going to work to open that machine."

"How could you have known that?" McCoy scoffed.

Charlie smirked as she turned her attention to the doctor. "Because if the man who invented the safe was a member of my family, he had this drilled into his head until it was practically in his DNA: Cor Unum, Via Una."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Charlie smirked, her eyes sparkling. "'One heart, one way.' It's my family's motto, has been for the last thousand years. There's a lot of meanings for it, but to us it means we are soldiers; we are freedom fighters who will sacrifice anything and everything for the greater good of our beliefs whether that is God, King and Country, or the protection of humanity. We fight and die as one heart. So when Edward created that encrypted safe to hold research he knew could change the course of this universe, he made damn sure that there would never be another key to open it. No matter how hard Sagan could try, or Scotty, or anyone, my DNA will never grant access to the files. No one's will. Edward and Edward alone holds the key to ever being able open that safe. One heart. One way."

"But he's dead," Jim pointed out.

"Yes, he is. He is a Noland. We tend to place others before ourselves."

"So I've noticed."

She smirked in response, rolling her eyes. "Come's with the territory, Captain. It's all in the blood."

"Well do you think you could hold off sacrificing yourself for a while?" McCoy barked. "I don't know how many times I can put you back together again."

"Can't promise anything, Doc," Charlie teased. Rolling his own eyes, and grumbling to himself, McCoy turned to check up on his other patients, the words "incorrigible" and "Spitfire" clearly heard to the amusement of Jim and Charlie.

"Sometimes it's too easy to rile him up," Charlie remarked, leaning back against the bed, an overwhelming sense of fatigue engulfing her.

"Almost takes the fun out of it," Jim agreed with a smile, watching his friend barrage a patient for one thing or another. Glancing back down into Charlie's tired, amber eyes, Jim could feel himself soften just looking at her. "I'm glad you're alright," he whispered, brushing the hair out of her face.

"Me too," Charlie grinned, her heart beginning to flutter erratically the longer she stared into Jim's crystalline blue eyes. They never had the opportunity to discuss what had transpired on the station, and now an awkward silence began to take hold. Jim was never the man without a catchy remark to break the tension, but he could feel everything he wanted say stick in his throat like chewing gum. The pair just stared at each other, neither knowing what to do.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For saving my life."

"I'd do anything for you, Charlie."

Charlie glanced away as her cheeks heated. Jim's fingers brushed under her chin, forcing her to look back into his penetrating gaze. His fingers were lightly brushing her skin, and slowly he began to lower his head to hers, intent on tasting her lips again.

Suddenly Spock's voiced echoed through sickbay, recalling Jim to the bridge. With a growl of annoyance, Jim looked apologetically at Charlie and said, "Duty calls."

"Go on, Cap'n," Charlie smiled. "I'll be here when you get back."

Jim grinned and placed a kiss on Charlie's forehead, his lips lingering longer than necessary. Without a word he spun and headed out of sickbay, leaving a blushing woman behind to stare longingly after him. Charlie knew from that moment on, she was in way more trouble than she ever was with Sagan. Charlie was in love.

* * *

**Phew! So we're beginning the wind down toward the conclusion of this story, but don't worry. There are still three chapters to go, so there's still time! **

**Please Review and let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from all of you and thank you to everyone who has reviewed already. It is so wonderful for me to read your lovely comments when I'm feeling particularly meh about my dissertation. You are the best readers a writer can ask for :)**


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Kindness of Strangers

**Chapter Eighteen: I Have Always Depended on the Kindness of Strangers**

Kate was going to have a heart attack. Between the Red Alert going off a half hour before and the constant rocking of the ship as it was bombarded by an unknown enemy, her heart was ready to leap out of her chest. Although she had tried her hardest to calm Philippa, assuming the vacated role Charlie had left, she was more than willing to join the blonde on the floor in a puddle of terrified tears. The captain was supposedly going down to the station where they believed Charlie was being held, but other than her involvement in the meeting as soon as they entered the star system, Kate had no knowledge of whether or not her friend had been found. The last two months onboard the _Enterprise_ had sure been the adventure she had dreamed of having as a child, but Kate was more than ready to return to Bristol and the quiet life she lived there.

The ship shook again as a large wave of bright material passed by the windows, and Kate had to physically stop the scream from erupting. She knew if Charlie was there, she would be facing the danger with courage and strength, something Kate tried to convey to Philippa with no success. Kate had strength in her own way, but the courage needed in the situation she found herself in was vastly eluding the redhead.

Ten minutes later the klaxons ceased their screaming, the ship settling back down into a state of dignified calm. Kate breathed out a sigh of relief, her porcelain hand covering her heart as she felt it beat painfully against her rib cage. Dropping to her knees on the carpet, Kate quickly pulled Philippa up, brushing her tears away as the other woman attempted to calm down.

"Oh I hate those alarms!" Philippa exclaimed, running hand under her running nose.

"I do too, Philly," Kate agreed. "I wonder what happened."

"Whatever it was, it sure hit the ship a lot," Philippa sniffled, wiping a hand down her face as she got herself back under control. After her weeks on the starship, she was slowly gaining control of her fears, but the Red Alerts sent her into a panic she just couldn't control.

Kate nodded in agreement, her own thoughts focused in and around the ship as both fell into silence. After a moment she voiced, "I want to know if they have Charlie now."

"I do too. You think Captain Kirk got her back?" Philippa asked as she stood, grabbing a tissue to wipe the residue of her tears from her cheeks.

Kate sat on the ground, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. "I hope so," she whispered, her anxiousness for Charlie's safety beginning to overpower her control. "It doesn't feel right, not having her here."

Philippa stopped and looked down at Kate, her red hair hanging long and loose shielding her face. Since the kidnapping of Charlie, Kate had stepped in as the one in control, the one who was the rock of support so to see her crumbling was startling to Philippa.

Realizing that it was her turn to provide the encouragement, Philippa kneeled down in front of her friend and grabbed her hand, gaining the other woman's attention. "He got her," she muttered fiercely. "He had to of. Didn't you see the way he was acting when we were on the bridge with his officers? The captain cares for Charlie, more than either of us realized and I don't believe he'd let anything get in his way. I was stupid to act as I did, and when we see Charlie again, _which we will_, I'm going to apologize."

"When did you become all mature?" Kate teased, lifting her wet, dark eyes upward, trying to prevent her tears from spilling over her freckled cheeks as she ran a pale hand under her nose.

"We've faced a lot of challenges in the last few weeks," Philippa said with quiet contemplation. "And while those stupid alarms still scare me beyond belief, being on this ship has opened my eyes to a lot of things I've never considered before. Having Charlie gone, and what happened between the two of us before she left has taught me a lot. I guess I've just grown up," she shrugged, realizing for the first time that she was no longer afraid of being on the ship and never going home. Just having her friend back safe was all Philippa wanted now.

Kate smiled, reaching up to squeeze Philippa's arm in support, before standing up with a huff and gestured for the other woman to head into the living room. A few hours later, a voice startled the pair as it echoed around their quarters.

"_McCoy to Philippa and Kate._"

"Um, yes? We're here," Kate called into the unknown.

"_Please head down to sickbay as soon as you are able. There's someone here who might want to see you._"

Both Kate and Philippa glanced at each other, their expressions both ones of shock before they practically ran out of their quarters down to sickbay. Their best friend was back and they were more than a little excited to see her.

* * *

Very slowly Charlie came awake, the bed on which she laid trying to pull her back into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. She could not remember a time when she was so comfortable, the soft, rhythmic sounds that echoed around her like a lullaby. With a sudden start, Charlie realized she could not remember where she was or how she got there. Her heart racing in fear, Charlie sat up with a gasp, her amber eyes wide and round in fright as her consciousness tried to catch up with the events of the last twenty-four hours.

"Woah! Woah, it's okay," a calming voiced soothed, grasping her shoulders to prevent her from moving any further. Charlie was panting in fear, seeing the confines of the Klingon ship and waiting for the next wave of pain to come. With a shake of her head, Charlie's vision of the vessel cleared, reminding her that she was in sickbay on the _Enterprise_ and not the dark hull of the alien ship. "You're alight, Spitfire," McCoy continued cautiously. "Nothing's going to hurt you."

Charlie closed her eyes, trying to get her heartbeat back under control. "I'm sorry, McCoy," she breathed, opening her eyes and turning her amber gaze to the concerned doctor's. "I've never had that happen before; waking up and not knowing where I am."

"With what you've gone through, I'm not surprised," he responded letting her go when he was sure she wasn't going to jump up. "You've been through a traumatic event. You're not going to know which way is up for a while." Charlie bit her lip and glanced away, not enjoying the sense of helplessness that came over her. "Don't look so damn morose, Spitfire," McCoy barked gruffly, causing Charlie to smile softly, "Makes me uncomfortable."

"So sorry, Doctor," she said rolling her eyes. "Hey, have Kate or Philippa been down here?" she asked, trying to change the subject and realizing that with the commotion with the Klingons and her injuries she hadn't been able to contact her friends. "Has anyone even told them I'm back?"

"As far as I am aware I don't believe anyone has told them you're here."

"Can you send them a message?" Charlie asked slightly alarmed that no one told them she returned. "I bet they're worried sick."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Spitfire," McCoy expressed slowly. "You're still pretty beat up, and need as much rest as you can get."

"I'm fine," she brushed off. "Honestly, I feel on top of the world and they need to know I'm back, McCoy. They are part of the reason why I was able to come back."

The two stared at each other for a moment, a silent war going on between the pair before the doctor sighed annoyed. "Jim's right. You are the most stubborn woman in the universe."

"And I wear that badge proudly."

"Now don't go getting cocky neither. That's the last thing we need on this ship: two cocky, stubborn people with hero complexes and an affinity for injuring themselves."

"I have no idea to what you're referring," Charlie cheekily grinned.

With a roll of his blue eyes to the heavens, silently asking for the strength not to strangle the woman, McCoy turned and strode over to a panel, calling for Kate and Philippa to head down to sickbay, then heading to his office grumbling the whole way.

Barely two minutes had passed before the redhead and blonde rushed into sickbay, their faces red and panting from their run. Their eyes darted around quickly before settling onto Charlie who smiled a wide, tooth grin as she caught sight of her friends. With a cry from all three of them, Kate and Philippa rushed over to Charlie's side and threw their arms around her, tears of joy and relief leaking from all three's eyes. They held each other for several moments, enjoying the feeling of being together again.

Charlie felt so happy she could burst. All she could think about on the Klingon ship was getting back to Kate, Philippa, and Jim, and now to have seen all three she finally felt she had returned.

"I missed you guys," she whispered as she squeezed her friends. Letting them go slowly, subtly brushing her tears away, she smiled as they both sat on the edge of her bed.

"We've missed you too, Sweetie," Kate said, taking Charlie's hand in her own.

"It wasn't the same without you," Philippa added. "We were so worried."

"I'm sorry, you guys, to leave like that," Charlie apologized, biting her lip. "I wish I didn't have too."

"It was not your fault!" Kate exclaimed.

"What could you have done? You did what you had to in order to protect us and the ship and besides, the Captain promised to rescue you," Philippa pointed out. "And we were sure he could do it. I've never seen anyone so determined. I'm sure he would have searched the whole galaxy for you."

Charlie blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as the other two shared knowing looks.

"We were even able to help them when you were gone," Kate proudly stated.

"Really?" Charlie asked surprised. "What did you do?"

"Well Kate worked with Commander Spock and was able to link your relative to Sagan, which led us to where you were," Philippa said.

"And Philly helped clear out the Captain's schedule and was very firm in pushing him to look for you," Kate supplemented. "Not that he needed much help in that endeavor, but we wanted to be sure."

Charlie sat back against the back of the bed, both surprised and proud of how her friends had grown in the last few weeks. But just as suddenly, feelings of melancholy washing over her pride as the ability of her friends to survive so well without her made her feel like a mother whose children had left the nest. While the thought was slightly patronizing, Kate and Philippa fully capable of handling themselves, Charlie had been such a pillar of support throughout their journey, she now felt bereft.

"That's great!" Charlie smiled, falsely cheerful as she shoved the other emotions aside. "I'm so proud of you." The younger women beamed, their accomplishments a statement of their growing confidence.

"What happened once you left?" Kate asked hesitantly, after a moment of silence. "Are you okay?"

Charlie's smile carefully slid from her face, her gaze dropping to the pale blanket lying over her legs. The wounds were still too fresh, and tortures still too close to her heart for her to express the true level of her emotions. She was conscious of the burden she would place on her friends by exposing the entirety of what she went through, something she was unwilling to do. No matter what transpired, she still loved her friends and would protect them any way she could. The tales of her suffering would only bring the happy reunion atmosphere down, and place an added weight on them. She was a tangled mess on the inside, and while McCoy's warning was true, for the time being she was going to try to forget everything on the vessel and focus on more pressing matters.

Swallowing the rising tide of tears, Charlie placed a smile onto her face as she glanced up. "I'm fine guys. It was no big deal," she shrugged.

"But he seemed so angry!" Kate exclaimed. "We thought for sure—"

"Nothing happened," Charlie interrupted, startling Kate. "He just wanted a sample of my blood, that's it, and unfortunately, it didn't even work."

"Why didn't it work?" Philippa asked. "And why not just take a sample and leave?"

"I don't know," Charlie shrugged evasively. "But who cares? I'm back now, and that's all that matters and I have found us a way home."

Both women's jaws dropped and their eyes popping out of their heads as Kate whispered, "You what?"

"We can go home," Charlie declared.

"Oh my god," Kate muttered as Philippa gave a shout of joy, the nurses glancing over in alarm before returning to their work when they realized there wasn't an emergency. "How?! What do we have to do?"

"I'm not sure what we're going to have to do per se, but the how lies with Sagan," Charlie explained. "He was able to bring us here because of specialized element he developed. That was one of the reasons he needed me, so he could access the information to make more. He wasn't able to do so, but he does have the last of the element and I think it's enough to get us back."

"How long is it going to take?" Philippa asked beaming, her face alight with happiness and hope. "Can we go now? Tomorrow? When!"

"Woah," Charlie laughed. "Calm down, Philly. Until I can talk to the Chief Engineer, and possibly Commander Spock I'm not too sure."

"Well hopefully soon!" Philippa exclaimed. "I can't believe after everything that's happened we can finally go home! I thought we were going to be stuck here forever."

"Me too," Kate agreed, alight with hope just as Philippa. "I don't mind it here, but I really miss Mum and Ben."

"This is so exciting!" Philippa continued, bouncing on the bed like an energetic puppy as she glanced between Kate and Charlie. "Aren't you happy, Charlie? We'll be home soon and forget this whole thing ever happened!"

Charlie again smiled hollowly, not embracing the same sense of excitement as the other two. "Of course, Philly. This is what we've been working towards since we got here."

"You sure? You know we don't belong here," Kate pressed shrewdly, the woman noticing something strange in the mannerisms of her friend.

"Yes, of course, Kate!" Charlie responded with more feeling, her statement like a punch to the gut. "This is just what I hoped for. Soon this will all be a bad dream."

Kate squinted her eyes, trying to decide if Charlie was telling the truth, her perceptions of the brunette just as strong as ever. Just as Kate opened her mouth to press further, sensing something off, Doctor McCoy appeared on the other side of Charlie's bed.

"Alright, catch-up time is over. My patient needs rest, and she's not gonna get that with ya'll gossiping like a bunch of hens. Now say goodbye."

Both Kate and Philippa glared at the CMO, about ready to argue their way into staying, but the doctors own stare was enough to convince the pair to back down. "Alright, fine," Kate agreed, rising to stand and pulling Philippa with her. "But we'll be back."

Charlie grinned, the conviction is Kate's voice even more proof that her friends had changed just as she had.

"Trust me," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Damn right you're not," McCoy growled, already setting up for another cycle. "Now shoo, the both of you. You can come back later if you're so insistent."

"Oh we will be," Kate firmly replied as she glowered at McCoy. "Bye, Charlie," she added, turning her attention back to Charlie as she gave her a quick hug followed by Philippa. "We're so happy you're back."

"Bye guys. Me too."

Charlie laid back against the bed as her friends left, closing her eyes as the warm pulsations of the machine began to heal her. Finally, everything she had prayed for over the last week had come true, so why did she feel like her heart was full of lead? Kate and Philippa were beyond thrilled they were going to get home, so why wasn't she? As McCoy worked, all Charlie could do was lay there and think, leading her down paths she didn't want to consider. _Kate's right. We don't belong here, _she thought after McCoy left her to fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Charlie received a message along with McCoy to attend a command meeting at 1300 hours. While the majority of her injuries were healed or on their way, Charlie was exhausted both physically and mentally. If she had the opportunity, she would sleep for a week before she'd even consider getting out of bed. Instead, she found herself, freshly showered and with a grumpy doctor behind her as the turbolift brought her to the bridge.

"You know I'm having a serious case of déjà vu at the moment, Doc," Charlie grumbled as the doors opened to admit them into the command center.

"You and me both, kid," McCoy mumbled back. "C'mon, let's get this shindig over with."

The doctor brushed passed her, and led the woman back into the observational room where she had explained her and her friend's predicament all those weeks ago. Unsurprisingly, Kate and Philippa were already seated, but instead of quarantining themselves to the end of the long table, they were seated right in the middle, both engaged in conversation with Sulu and Uhura. McCoy went to take his normal seat, and with a quick puff to get the string of dark hair out of her eyes, Charlie made her way over to Philippa's other side which conveniently was the seat right next to the captain's.

With a quick breath to release the tension she was beginning to build up inside, Charlie wandered over and took the available chair as she engaged in conversation with the others. A few minutes later, Jim sauntered in, the entire table rising to their feet before he ordered them back to their seats with a roll of his eyes. As he came to sit on her left, Jim sent Charlie a quick smile and a wink, folding his hands together to gain the attention of the room once everyone was resettled.

"Well Team, I first want to congratulate you all for your quick response and out-of-the-box thinking that got us out of our latest encounter. It's instances like this that prove to Starfleet we're the right crew for the job."

"I think the lass deserves an accord as well," Scotty cut in, gesturing to Charlie. She embarrassingly smiled, her face heating with the praise. She had reacted by instinct in the situation with the Klingons, not for recognition, and she was suddenly uncomfortable with the attention.

"You're right, Mr. Scott," Jim agreed with a nod, turning to Charlie as a smile graced his face. "You really lived up to your family name with that maneuver with the star."

Charlie could have burst with pride by what Jim said. Maybe she was not the soldier like the rest of her family – which in many ways had made her an outcast – but to realize that she had done something she knew would have made them proud allowed her for the first time to feel a part of her heritage. "Thank you," she said, her amber gaze sparkling with controlled fire.

"Now," Jim said clearing his throat. "Starfleet has ordered us to assess the Boardis Station to decide whether to scrap it, or send a team out for repairs. Mr. Scott, what is your preliminary evaluation?"

"Well, Cap'n, based on our scans—"

"It needs to be destroyed," Charlie interrupted firmly; surprised they had to discuss the situation of the station. "All of it. Blasted into the next quadrant, galaxy, whatever you have to do as long as no one can ever attempt to access the information again."

The table was stunned into silence, the ferocity behind Charlie's statement was evident as she sat back, breathing heavily. Her heart was pounding in fear and anger that what happened to her could happen again if the station was repaired.

"But you said there is no way anyone can get a hold of the research," Jim asked slowly, confused by her outburst of venom.

"Doesn't mean that if the station is repaired they aren't going to try," she added ruefully. "Yes, my DNA will not be able to unlock the files, but just having that machine operational means someone could figure out how to use it. If that technology were to fall into the wrong hands . . ." Charlie trailed off, her point not needing to be said as the silence echoed through the room.

Jim sat back in his chair with a sigh, fiddling with the stylist for his PADD. "Other opinions?" he asked the table.

The crew sent furtive glances between each other, before Scotty spoke up, "well like I was sayin'," he sent a glance toward the American, making sure no other interruptions would occur before continuing, "the station sustained heavy damages accordin' to our scans; primary power is down, life support and other functions down as well. I honestly donna know how you were able to survive down on that station."

"You and me both," McCoy mumbled.

"Can it be repaired?" Jim asked, holding his hand up for silence when Charlie opened her mouth to argue.

"Oh aye," the engineer agreed, nodding his head. "It'll take a few months, and a majority would have to be done just sealing up the gaping exterior holes, but the station could be operational again. I haven't come across a machine I couldna fix."

Jim nodded his head in affirmation, glancing to his first officer. "What do you think, Spock?"

"I agree with the Chief Engineers diagnosis, however I must also side with Miss Noland on the moral issue at hand. While the task of repairing the station is not out of reach, the implication of a machine that has the capability of reproducing a substance, which can alter the time/space continuum, has a high level of risk inherent in it. I have no doubt with adequate research and study of the machine and its properties, one could relearn, as you will, to operate and reproduce Dr. Noland-Spears's findings."

"So is that a vote for 'destroying the station' or fixing it?"

"I think we need a wider assemblage of opinions, Captain, before we make a decision," the Vulcan replied.

"I think that damned machine and the station with it should join the Klingons," McCoy grumbled. "I don't think it's worth messing with the universe just for the hope of regaining a few plants."

"I agree with McCoy," Sulu added as well. "Something that dangerous could create more problems than it fixes."

"I disagree," Chekov spoke up in contrast. "Ze ability to manipulate space time could dramatically change 'ow ze Federation operates, creating opportunities for physicists never seen before."

"But do the opportunities outweigh the risks?" Uhura, who had been mostly silent through the exchange, argued. "Sure there's a ton of things we could gain for our benefit from its operation, but at what cost? Where do we draw the line that says we've gone too far? Nero already created an altered reality for us; do we really want to create another one?"

"We could 'ave ze ability to set our universe back on its former course," Chekov responded back. "There are countless possibilities with this research."

"But this research—"

"Okay, enough," Jim interrupted, rubbing his burning eyes in irritation. "We're not here to argue the philosophical or practical implications of this research, merely gage the repair situation."

"Have you all learned nothing from history?" Charlie spat, glaring at those sitting at the table, unable to restrain herself any longer. "Or have you conveniently forgotten what a massive threat looks like? That machine, for all the wonders it can do, can also create a chaos never seen in this universe. Maybe time isn't as linear as we believe, but the universe is not designed to mixed and rearranged on a whim. If we shield our eyes to all the possibilities that can occur if we let someone research that thing, then we're just as bad as the Klingons who wanted my blood to get it running. That station is a giant A-bomb, and you're about to drop it on Hiroshima."

Jim and Charlie squared off in a silent battle of stares, a whole conversation passing between them without a word said.

"What about going home?" Kate finally voiced. "Doesn't that machine have the answer to getting us home?"

"Sagan has that information," Charlie said, tearing her gaze away from Jim's stubborn glare. "The only thing the research can offer is a faster way to program our landing point."

Charlie glanced back to Jim, his gaze like ice as he regarded her, a myriad of thoughts swirling in his crystalline eyes. After several tense minutes, he finally spoke. "Mr. Scott, I want you to pull as much information as you can out of those computers on the machine and any other relevant material you think will appease Starfleet without giving them too much of a foundation. Maybe this universe isn't ready for time distortion to be readily available, but that doesn't mean we will never be."

"Aye, Cap'n," Scotty nodded. "I'll get right to it. And then I'm thinkin' you want a little misfire of a plasma canon, rendering the station non-repairable?"

"You read my mind, Scotty. Thank you everyone, for your insight and thoughts. Dismissed."

Everyone stood to leave, none of the parties completely satisfied by the decision of the Captain. Charlie was completely fuming, her desire to see the station destroyed clouding her judgment. She stood with a huff, anger clear written across her face, and turned her back to Jim, attempting to dodge around Kate and Philippa so she could get around the table without talking to him.

"Charlie, can you stay a moment?" Jim asked after only two steps.

She froze, grinding her teeth and silently praying for patience. Kate and Philippa sent her questioning looks as they headed out, Charlie shaking her head and mouthing she would tell them later. Once everyone was gone, she turned, crossing her arms in agitation as she faced off against Jim.

"How are you doing?" he asked lamely, unable to avoid the anger she was radiating.

"Fine."

Jim sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I know you're upset about the station situation—"

"No shit, Sherlock, you just figured that out?" she snapped sarcastically.

"Listen, I have more to think about than just your opinion," he barked, dropping his arm. "I'm sorry you don't agree, but this is how it has to be. I can't just blow up the station for no reason without anything to show for it."

"No reason?" Charlie protested. "How about what Sagan did to me because of that station? How about the threat of overwhelming destruction by keeping a single scrap of information of that damn machine? It's common sense, Jim, not my opinion."

"And while you get to ride your self-righteous train, I have orders, Charlie," Jim remarked gruffly. "Like it or not, I actually have to follow what the Admiralty tells me to do."

"Oh screw you," Charlie cursed, moving around the chair and table to stand toe-to-toe with the captain, poking him in the chest. "I distinctly remember stories of when you did the exact opposite of what they wanted."

"Because they were wrong then, Charlie," he said taking a step back. "They were thinking there was no way out, and you know more than anyone I don't think like that."

"What about now? How are they not wrong now?"

"Why does it even matter, Charlie?" Jim glared. "The information we get out of there will help you get back where you came from. I thought you would be ecstatic."

Charlie blinked, the venom and pain in Jim's voice deflating her anger in an instant. "It's not time to say good-bye yet, Jim."

"But you are leaving."

It was a statement more than a question, but Charlie still felt inclined to answer, "Yes." That one word was small and softly spoken, but it was as if a giant knife speared both parties straight through their hearts.

"Then there's nothing left to be said," Jim acknowledged. Every fiber in being was screaming at him to beg her to stay, but his pride held those words firmly in check. She would leave, like all the others he cared about, and no amount of pleading would get her to stay.

"Jim, please don't be like this," Charlie said, laying her hand on his arm. She didn't want to leave, finding for the first time in her life a place where she belonged. In this universe she was someone who made her family proud. She didn't have to see her father's disappointed gaze, or the pitying looks from her siblings. She was finally her own woman. A part of her wanted to stay, but only if Jim asked it of her because if she were to remain in that universe, she couldn't bear the thought of being away from him.

Instead, he brushed off her arm, and left the observational room without looking back. Charlie stood rooted to the spot, a jumbled mess on the inside while her exterior radiated impassiveness as the door closed on her. She wanted to scream and throw something, mainly a punch at an unsuspecting, stubborn captain. While it sounded nice, Charlie knew that it wouldn't help her in the long run.

With a deep sigh, she too exited the observation room in enough time to watch the Boradis station dissolve in a vast array of explosions. She glanced over at Jim as he stood stoically watching the view screen. He turned and caught her eye, giving no warm smile or other outward appearance of affection. With her own expression devoid of emotion, she turned without another word and moved into the turbolift without a word.

As the doors to the lift closed, McCoy noticed the way Jim's jaw was clenched, almost as if he was restraining himself from going after a certain angry brunette.

"Jim, you're an idiot if you let her go," he muttered as the remnants of the station floated off into space.

"Not now, Bones," Jim sighed as he headed to his chair, the surly doctor for once deciding not to hound him. "Sulu, plot a course back toward the Alpha quadrant. Maximum warp."

"Aye Sir."

As he watched his helmsman take the ship to warp, Jim wondered not for the first time if we was doing the right the right thing. While his head rationalized the whole situation, his heart screamed that the woman he loved was about to warp into a place where he knew he would never see her again. And that thought was more than he could bear.


	19. Chapter Nineteen:We'll Always Have Paris

**Chapter Nineteen: We'll Always Have Paris**

_She was running down a long corridor, the broken wiring sending off sparks as she passed while the Red Alert continued to blare at a deafening volume. Her heart was pounding in her ears and it was getting harder to take a breath, but fear kept her legs pumping faster as she flew away from the shadow that chased her. Tears were leaking down her eyes, but she brushed them away as they blurred her vision. She tripped on a piece of broken floor, falling hard onto her knees with a scream. The lights continued to flicker as she glanced behind, watching the shadowed figure move closer and closer. A fearful sob burst from her throat as she scrambled up and continued running, whipping around a corner and jumping over more broken pieces of the destroyed ship. _

_She could feel the vibrations under her pounding feet of the explosions happening below her. The ship was going to come apart any minute, spurring her faster to reach the evacuation shuttle. Once she was there, she knew she would be safe from those that pursued her. Steam poured out of the walls and the lights went fully out, only the low auxiliary beams allowing her to see where to place her feet. She again looked behind as she ran around another corner, the hairs standing on her neck as she felt the shadow come closer. More sparks lit the hallway briefly, illuminating an empty space. _

_She paused, her amber eyes widening in surprise. Believing fortune was on her side and she managed to lose it, she turned to run toward the shuttle when she collided with something very hard. Arms reached out to steady her as she began to fall backwards. Glancing up, she grinned when her earthy gaze met that of sky._

"_Jim," she smiled relieved. "I'm so glad to find you! We need to get out of here, c'mon!"_

"_I'm not Jim," he said, his crystalline eyes darkening their hue as his grip tightened painfully on her arms. Suddenly Jim Kirk morphed into the stocky figure of an older man with grey hair and a white beard. "I finally have you, Charlie, and no one can save you now," Sagan gestured down the hall where the dead body of a man in a gold shirt laid, his blonde hair sticky with blood and his blue eyes staring lifelessly into her own._

With a scream, Charlie bolted out of bed, still seeing the sprawled, lifeless form of the Captain of the _Enterprise_. Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks in strong rivulets as her heart pounded and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. With a small shake to her head, Charlie cleared the nightmare from behind her eyes just as the lights in her room brightened and Philippa and Kate came rushing in.

"Charlie! Are you alright?" Kate asked, rushing forward and laying a hand on her friend's forehead, frowning to find her clammy.

"We heard you scream," Philippa added, scowling as Charlie turned away, grabbing the sheet to wipe away the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm fine, guys," she muttered turning back. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"What was the nightmare about?" Kate softly inquired, sitting on the bed.

"Nothing, it was nothing, I can't even remember it." But she could. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to get those images out of her head.

"Maybe we should contact Dr. McCoy," Philippa suggested, heading over to the comm panel to contact the physician.

"No!" Charlie barked as she made a grab for Philippa's arm. "Please don't bother him. It was just a silly dream, I'm fine now. Really."

"But he would want to know," Kate argued firmly. "Something happened down on that station, Charlie. Something you're not telling us. I'm not going to push you, but maybe he can give you a sedative or something."

Charlie swallowed back the surge of emotion that wanted to erupt again. Her nerves were severely fried, but with a tight smile, she reached out and squeezed Kate's hand. "Thank you, but I swear I'm fine. Just a little frazzled, that's all."

"If you're sure?" Philippa asked slowly, unconvinced.

"Yes," Charlie nodded. "Just go back to bed. There's nothing more sleep can't cure."

Kate's chocolate gaze was penetrating as she searched Charlie's face for the answers the woman was unwilling to give. Unable to break the barrier that she had firmly in place, Kate frowned, but nodded, rising to head back to the room she was sharing with Philippa. "If you need anything, just let us know. We're here for you, Sweetheart."

Charlie's gaze softened and she slowly nodded. Her friends exited her room, the lights dropping once she was alone again. She lay back down, turning onto her side as she hugged a pillow to chest, the tears she was trying to hide gusting out with no hope of stopping. She fell asleep crying, her heart torn with no hope of repair.

* * *

The next morning Charlie woke up late, feeling decidedly groggy and with a slight headache. Her eyes were disgustingly crusty and her hair was a sight when she stumbled into the bathroom. She stood in the shower for a while, letting the pulsing jets of warm water cascade over her tight shoulders, wishing the water could wash away her worries as it did the grime on her skin. She had just finished drying her hair and getting dressed when Philippa knocked on the door.

"I'll be right out!" Charlie called.

"Can I come in?" Philippa asked through the door.

"Yea, sure," Charlie said, hitting the button to disable the locking switch. The door swung open as Charlie reached for her toothbrush. "What's up, Philly?" she asked as she stuck the tool into her mouth after applying a liberal amount of toothpaste on it.

"How are you this morning?" Philippa asked, choosing to sit on the lid of the toilet as Charlie brushed her teeth. Charlie shrugged, glancing away from her friend's gaze in the mirror. She spit and rinsed her mouth, grabbing her bath towel to wipe her lips.

"I'm fine. Just tired," she said.

"Understandable," Philippa nodded awkwardly. "Listen I came in because I haven't had the chance to apologize."

"Apologize?" Charlie asked, turning to lean her hip against the counter and giving her full attention to Philippa. "What for?"

"For the way I acted before you left," Philippa affirmed. While her voice was strong, she couldn't keep her sapphire gaze on Charlie, looking down to her wringing hands instead. "I behaved appallingly and I said some really horrible things to you; things I didn't mean and I'm sorry." She glanced up, looking directly into Charlie's eyes. "I'm really, really sorry."

"Oh, Philly," Charlie chocked, kneeling down next to her friend and pulling her into a hug. "Thank you for apologizing, but there was no need. You're like a sister, and sister's fight." Charlie pulled back, her hands resting on Philippa's shoulders. "Did you carry around that guilt while I was gone?" Philippa, her lip out in a pout nodded. "Oh, sweetie, I'd already forgotten it the moment the alarm on the ship had gone off. I'd forgiven you weeks ago."

"Truly?"

"Truly," Charlie smiled. "You're one of my best friends. Short of you trying to kill me, I think we're pretty good."

Philippa laughed, rolling her eyes. Just then, Kate came into the bathroom, her face paler than normal, which was a huge contrast to her flame-colored hair.

"Kate, you alright?" Philippa asked.

"Yeah, you look like you've just seen a ghost," Charlie added, her brow furrowed in curiosity.

"Commander Spock just sent up a message," Kate mumbled. "He's down in the Brig right now. Charlie – Sagan's dead."

The blood drained from Charlie's face as she fell backward to sit on the floor, the words hitting her like a ton of bricks. "What?" she breathed, staring at Kate incredulously.

"He's dead," Kate repeated, unable to lessen the affect the words would have on her friend. "They found him this morning. Commander Spock asked if you could join him down in the brig on deck seventeen."

"Why does he need me?" Charlie asked, still dazed.

"He didn't say."

"Charlie, are you alright?" Philippa probed alarmed, the pale complexion and wide eyes of the woman at her feet beginning to frighten her.

"I'm fine, Philly," Charlie answered softly, her brain attempting to process the events she had just been told. She rose shakily to her feet, her body moving before she could process what she was doing. Without a word to her friends, Charlie left the relative safety of their quarters and entered the turbolift, instructing the car to the floor where the holding cells for the Brig were. She leaned against the wall of the lift with a sigh, the flash of lights semi-hypnotic. The nightmare from the night before was still lingering, and even though the man who invaded her dreams was now gone, Charlie still felt uneasy.

Before she was ready, the doors opened throwing her into the activity on the normally quiet deck. Different groups of crew occupied the space as the investigation into Sagan's death commenced. Charlie hesitantly stepped onto the deck, trying to avoid getting in the way of the groups as they scurried back and forth.

Searching through the people, Charlie was able to pick out the tall, dark head of the Vulcan. Standing next to him was Kirk, grim-faced and his eyes hard as he listened to whatever his First Officer was telling him. Seeing him was like another blow to Charlie, stopping in her tracks as she felt the air leave her lungs in one large whoosh. No matter how many times she told herself it was a dream, the sight of his lifeless blue eyes still resonated through her. To see him standing next to Spock and very much alive, Charlie had to stamp down the urge to run and throw her arms around him.

As if he could read her mind, Jim turned and noticed her in the crowd, gesturing toward her as he informed Spock. Straightening her shoulders, Charlie made her way toward the men, wiping her sweaty palms down the length of her denim jeans.

"Greetings, Miss Noland," Spock said, dipping his head to her.

"Hello, Commander. Captain," Charlie greeted both men with a small smile. Her eyes lingered on Jim's longer, the resolution to their fight still unsaid.

"Charlie," Jim said. He appeared cold and distant, his arms held behind his back as he took a small step backwards when Charlie walked up. It was if he was trying to place as much distance between himself and the woman as he could without being completely obvious.

Her smile slid from her face, as she glanced away, finally noticing the brightly lit room of white where a mound lay with a sheet covering the body underneath. A force field separated the room from the rest of the area, and while the activity outside was organized chaos, no one was inside the cell.

"What happened?" she questioned softly, turning so she faced the cell fully.

"We are currently unsure," Spock answered. "It appears to be a suicide; no one has entered his cell since he was placed there thirty-four hours ago. How he was able to, however, has yet to be determined."

"He left something for you," Jim added, crossing his arms.

Charlie spun around, confused. "What on earth could he have left me?"

"Go in and find out."

Kirk reached over and hit a button, the shield dropping to allow her to enter. Charlie, glanced at Jim confused, before she hesitantly stepped into the cell, the silence that descended over the scene deafening to her. As she moved closer to the slab, she noticed a pale hand had dropped from underneath the sheet and lying near it sat the vial of New Red Matter. Charlie knelt down, picking up the vial and noticed a card in the hand. With her own shaking and sweaty, she stretched forward and plucked the paper out from between his cold fingers. Scribbled on the front was a long, complex equation that looked like gibberish to her. Flipping the card over, two words were scrawled in shaky handwriting: _For Emily._

So Sagan had decided to make up for the pain he had caused her. The ache in Charlie's chest lessened slightly, an overwhelming sense of sadness taking control. She felt such a wealth of sympathy for the man, yet she also hated him with every fiber of her being. The duel emotions that contradicted each other were overwhelming. She glanced up, staring at the silhouette of his head under the stark white fabric, wondering if now she could move on fully since he appeared no longer to be a threat in her life.

Clutching the vial in her hand, Charlie stood, continuing to glare at the man under the sheet. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and let it out, the straining emotions leaving with the air.

"I forgive you," she whispered, knowing that would open her heart to healing. Re-opening her eyes, Charlie turned and headed out of the cell, handing the vial and card to Spock who raised one eyebrow at her action.

"That is last of the New Red Matter," she explained, her cheeks heating as Jim radiated annoyance next to her. "I'm not sure what the equation on the card is for. I'm guessing to get my friends and I back to our time."

Spock nodded, glancing through the equation. "I agree with your supposition, however I will study this further with the aid of Mr. Scott in order to adequately plot the correct course and return you home."

"How long do you think it will take?" Charlie asked, trying to ignore Jim's anger next to her.

"I will not be sure until I speak to Lt. Commander Scott," Spock said. "I will contact you with the pertinent information when I have finished reviewing this calculation."

"Thank you, Commander," Charlie smiled.

The Vulcan nodded in response. "Do you require anything else from me, Captain?"

Charlie finally glanced at Jim, the heat in his gaze searing her to the core. He never took his eyes from her's as he responded, "No, Commander. You may leave."

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie saw the blue-shirted male leave, an awkward silence descending on the remaining pair. Finally having enough of the tension, Charlie began, "Jim, I'm sorry about yesterday, I—"

"Save it," Jim interrupted with a snap. "You got what you needed to leave. Go celebrate with your friends."

He brushed past her, leaving her momentarily speechless as her jaw hung open in surprise. Snapping her teeth closed, she spun to give Jim a piece of her mind, but he was nowhere to be seen. Growling in frustration, she clenched her fists and stormed out of the brig, punching the walls of the turbolift as they brought her back to deck six. Angry tears spilled from her eyes, but she brushed them impatiently away. No matter what, she would not cry. If Jim wanted to be an ass for the last few days of her stay, so be it. But she would enjoy the remainder of her time on the _Enterprise_, even if part of her didn't want to leave.

* * *

Charlie returned to her quarters, brimming with suppressed energy. Between the excitement at returning home, and the anger and guilt towards Jim, she needed to stay occupied. Luckily for her, both Kate and Philippa were in the same mindset; too anxious to sit around all day. The trio headed to Ten Forward, spending much of the day with crew sharing stories and jokes back and forth while Spock and Scotty worked on the equation to return them home. Kate and Philippa were giddy with excitement, more engaged with those outside of their litter circle than Charlie had ever seen them. They both got along fabulously with Uhura, trading shopping tips, as well as cultural variations between England and Africa. They were laughing, and giggling with each other, much to the other men's bemusement; they had never seen Uhura act as such.

Charlie meanwhile, was having a wonderful conversation with Lieutenant Sulu, who she learned was also a fencer. They both shared different pointers and stories of various bouts. Sulu described when he fought the Romulans with Kirk during the _Narada_ incident, and Charlie begged to see his collapsible sword. She told him about the fights with the Klingons, keeping her voice low so it wouldn't carry over to her friends. She knew Sulu would not tell anyone, and she didn't want what happened to her would get back to Kate and Philippa. It was bad enough every time she closed her eyes, an ugly Klingon face was inches of her, a spear raised in his hand; she didn't know if she could deal with their pity and shock of what happened on top of it.

Sulu listened intently, nodding his head as she gave him as many details as she could remember.

"I'm impressed," he remarked after she had finished telling him the last bout. "So this was a Klingon ritual?"

"I think so," Charlie shrugged. "Part of me is convinced it was Sagan's twisted mind that allowed it to happen."

"Have you talked to Dr. McCoy about it?"

"No, why would I?"

"My aunt is clinical psychologist back on Earth. Those kinds of events can have dramatic impact on our minds as well as our bodies," he stared hard into her eyes, thinking of the last meeting with the captain, "and McCoy is one of the few who have the credentials on this ship for that kind of thing."

"I'm fine, Sulu," Charlie brushed aside, her eyes widening at something behind him, but quickly flicking her gaze back to his. "Sagan's gone. I've got nothing more to fear."

Sulu was skeptical, but let the matter drop as Charlie had clearly withdrawn back into herself. She became quiet and distant, and although he tried to pull her back out, she ignored him. Turning to look behind, he noticed Kirk and Spock over in the opposite corner, discussing something between themselves. When he turned back, Sulu was surprised to see Charlie's seat empty, and the doors to Ten Forward closing.

Charlie made her way back to her quarters, her heart still pounding with having Jim so near. She loved him, but she had to distance herself because was going to leave him. She didn't belong in his universe, no matter how hard she wished she did. She and Kate had discussed it earlier, the redhead pointing out that the Star Trek they knew never had a Charlie Noland in it. She could only imagine how much she had already screwed up their reality; she couldn't screw it up more. Keeping him at arm's length was the best thing for both of them, even if it added to her emotional turmoil.

Once back in her quarters, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion spread through her limbs, and with dragging feet she fell onto her bed in her room, barely kicking her shoes off before she was asleep. Her dreams were again running through the halls of the Boradis station, the shadowed figure always right behind her; not enough to catch her but close enough she couldn't lose him. Turning a corner, Charlie stopped dead in her track, the broken bodies of the _Enterprise_ crew littering the hall. She gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as bile rose in her throat. In the middle of the group laid Jim, his arms outstretched as if reaching for something, his blue, lifeless eyes opened in shock. She screamed then, turning to run but not before a blast hit her square in the chest, knocking her back. Her knees hit the floor, and as the life drained out of her, her gaze was drawn up, a pair of harsh, green eyes glinting out from the shadows.

Charlie sat up with a gasp, her heart racing as it realized it was still able to pump her life's blood through her veins. She blinked away the nightmare, quickly glancing at the clock next to her bed. It only read 20:48, not even nine at night. Running a hand down her face, to brush away the cold sweat and tears, Charlie swung her legs to sit on the bed, her head falling into her propped hands as she tried vainly to get her breathing under control.

"This is ridiculous, Charlotte," she chastised herself. "You're stronger than this; get a hold of yourself."

Standing up to pace the room, Charlie felt like a caged animal that needed to be released. Heading for the door, she poked her head quietly into the hall, checking to see if Kate and Philippa were back yet. The rooms were dark and silent, which meant they were still out. With a sigh of relief, Charlie quickly headed for the door and out into the hall, her feet doing the leading. Charlie was lost in her dream, unable to shake the fear and anxiety the nightmare caused. She needed to leave, to get away from the _Enterprise_ if only to save Jim. She didn't understand how, but he dreams felt like a premonition, and the sooner she was gone, the sooner the crew was safe.

Before she knew what was happening, she walked into the observational room on deck five. The lights were all off when she entered, her startled gaze drawn toward the light filtering though the giant window. Instead of being alone as she had anticipated, a figure stood in front of the frame; a figure she knew well. Stopping dead in her tracks, Charlie stared longingly at the back of Jim's head before silently trying to creep away.

"I know you're there," he stated, not turning around.

She paused a moment, before saying, "Do you want me to leave?"

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned, making it stick up at odd angles. "No, no you can stay."

Even though she stood above him, Charlie could see Jim's eyes were haunted and bloodshot. With great care as if approaching an injured animal, Charlie headed down the ramp slowly. Her mind screamed at her to stop, that this was the opposite of staying away, but she felt drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. She came to stand in front of him, the lights from nearby stars illuminating the pair in wavelengths of yellow and blue.

Charlie didn't know what to say, her mouth having gone dry and her heart pounding by the look of longing in his eyes. Without thinking, she reached up and laid a hand on his cheek, feeling the sharp stubble of a day's growth under her fingers. Jim closed his eyes, gasping as if in pain as he reached up to hold her hand next to him.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she whispered, more than one meaning laced in that sentence.

His eyes snapped open, staring hard into her contrite regard. "I am too."

Pulling her hand away from his cheek, she wrapped her arms around his torso, laying her cheek against his chest, the warm, solid beat of his heart a soothing balm for her own. Slowly, strong arms circled her, bringing her fully into his embrace. Her height was perfect for Jim to lay his cheek on her hair, inhaling her scent as his own heart began to pound. This is what he fought for, to hold her close and protect her: to never let her go.

"Why do you have to leave?" he asked after a moment, feeling her stiffen at his words.

"You wouldn't understand," she mumbled, pulling out of his embrace. She turned to walk away, not wanting to erupt into another fight. It was a mistake to come.

"What wouldn't I understand?" he asked, reaching for her hand and stopping her. "Explain it to me. Please."

His gaze was earnest, and Charlie knew she owed him at least a semblance of the truth.

"I don't know how to explain it," she mumbled, withdrawing her hand and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Try."

"I just - I don't belong here; this isn't my universe. I wish I could tell you more but I can't—"

"Bullshit," Jim snapped his irritation and anger taking hold. "You won't tell me, and that's the difference."

"No, Jim, I can't. There's so much more involved in me being here than you know."

"Well what I do know is I flew halfway across the galaxy for you, placing my ship and crew in extreme danger and for what? For you to just leave again?"

"I didn't ask you to come after me. If I remember correctly, I told you not to worry about it."

"And if I didn't you would be dead!" he shouted. Breathing heavily through his nose, Jim tried to calm himself. "You would be dead, lying there tied up in that godforsaken storage room cold and alone. And that's only if Sagan didn't come back for you."

"What is it you want me to say?" she argued back, tears beginning to fall down her redden cheeks. "Should I be thanking you, the wonderful Savior of the Universe for coming to rescue poor, pitiful me? Do you want me to say that I am a mess, and I don't know how to fix this? That I am pulled in a million directions by the promises I've made to everyone while I ignore the ones I made to myself? Goddammit, Jim! I don't know what I'm supposed to do! I'm not the hero."

"And I am?"

Charlie snorted, shaking her head disbelievingly as she twisted away from him, brushing away her tears. "Yes, Jim, you are. You saved Earth from Nero. You saved the Federation from Sagan. You've save me more times that I care to acknowledge." She glanced over her shoulder, Jim standing silhouetted by the viewport, his hands clenched into fists. "You're the hero in this, and I'm just one chapter in your story. I'll never be more than that."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is. You're destined for greater things. I can't tell you how I know, but I do."

"And you don't think they include you?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "They don't. I would only get in your way. I've come to realize that. It's your destiny."

"I don't give a shit about my destiny," Jim snapped, marching up to spin her around, holding on to her for emphasis. "Whatever my destiny was supposed to be changed the minute Nero came into this universe. Maybe I'm destined for greater things, but who's to say those plans do not include you."

"I can't, Jim," Charlie pleaded. "I can't. Philippa and Kate, they, they need me and—"

"No, they don't," he interrupted. "Haven't you noticed? They're fine on their own. I think you need them more than they need you." Charlie's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "You need someone to look after because god-forbid you look after yourself."

"That's not fair," she growled. "Maybe you're right, that I need someone to look after, but don't you dare think I use them as a crutch. I'm doing the best I can. Can't you see what I mean to them?"

"What about me, Charlie?" Jim asked. "What about what happened on the station? Does that mean nothing?"

Charlie didn't know what to do, where to look. She thought she had experienced pain onboard the Klingon vessel, but the agony of feeling her heart rip into shreds was killing her. "It meant more to me than you could ever understand," she whispered.

"But not enough."

"You brushed me off, remember?" Charlie snapped, pushing away from him. "You knew this was coming the minute I asked you for aid."

"Yes, I did, but I didn't expect—" he trailed off.

"Expect what?"

Shaking his head, he mumbled, "Nothing."

"No, if we're being honest here, didn't expect what, Jim?"

"What did they do to you on that ship?" Kirk snapped back in defense. "You were not like this before."

Charlie sucked her bottom lip into her teeth. "Trust me when I say, you don't want to know."

"Yes, I do, Charlie. I want to help you."

"Leave it, that'll help me."

"Stop," he ordered, stepping back into her personal space and gripping her upper arms, this thumps stroking her skin softly. "Kate told me you were having nightmares, and—"

"That was none of her damn business to tell you!" Charlie yelled as she backed away, her eyes wide. "I'm fine, just leave it alone."

"Why are you being so evasive?" Kirk retorted. "Just talk to me!"

"Why the sudden interest? Huh? Last I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me."

Jim sighed, running a hand across his forehead as she mumbled, "You're leaving, Charlie—"

"But I haven't left yet!" she interrupted. "You know what, fine. We're just going to keep going around in circles, anyway. I care about you, Jim. A lot, actually, but no matter what, I have to go back home with my friends. I know you don't understand, and you probably never will, but I'm doing this for both our sakes. That's life, and it's bullshit, but what can you do? Thank you for saving me, and protecting Kate and Philippa while I was gone. You've been an immense help, Captain."

She spun to leave, opting for a tactical retreat instead of continuing to sustain heavy losses. As she reached the ramp, Jim's voice stopped her in her tracks as he said, "Spock says he'll have everything ready for the morning. Is this how you want to say good-bye?"

With a sigh, she glanced back over her shoulder. "I guess we'll always have Paris." She continued up the ramp and out of sight, leaving a man behind who never thought he could have his heart broken.

* * *

The minute Charlie entered their quarters, Kate and Philippa knew something was off. Although her eyes were dry and she appeared calm, the subtle shaking of her hands and the tightness in her face were clear indicators to the other women all was not well.

"Hey! Where were you?" Philippa asked, sitting up from where she had been reading a PADD on the sofa.

"Nowhere," came the short reply as she headed straight for her room. Kate and Philippa shared a glance between each other before they both got up and followed Charlie.

"And why is that hard for me to believe?" Kate quipped, leaning against the doorframe as her arms crossed.

"I don't know, Kate," Charlie said, falling onto her bed with a groan. "Why is it such a big deal?"

"Because something is wrong, Charlie," Philippa snapped. "And you aren't telling us what that is, which hurts. We're your friends, aren't we? Or have we been replaced?"

Charlie sat up, her eyes wide as she took in the irate forms of Kate and Philippa. "No," she whispered. "You haven't been replaced. I'm sorry, you guys. I'm just – I'm a mess right now." The flood gates opened, tears falling down Charlie's cheeks like rivers. The other women wasted no time, jumping onto Charlie's bed to calm her as the woman cried. She told them both about the when Jim and McCoy found her on the station (leaving out the part about being beaten beforehand) and how Jim had kissed her. She explained that no matter what happened, she couldn't stay on the _Enterprise_, which caused him to pull away from her.

"I'm at a lost," she sobbed into Kate's shoulder. "I love him, but I can't stay."

"Well why can't you?" Philippa bluntly asked, Kate shooting her a dark look.

Charlie pushed herself out of Kate's embrace, running hand under her nose and brushing away the liquid from her cheeks. "It's like we discussed before. There is no Charlie Noland in the Star Trek Universe back home. We were never supposed to be here, and I was a fool to even think that we would be fine staying. Who knows what damages we've caused for the future."

"But you love him," Philippa argued. "That has to count for something. And I'm pretty sure he's harboring similar feelings."

"Not after tonight," she mumbled. "We got into a huge fight, and I told him that no matter what he said, I was going back with you."

"Oh honey," Kate cooed. "I'm sorry."

"Yea, me too," Charlie sniffled.

"Stay, Charlie," Philippa continued to urge. "Kate and I can take care of ourselves."

"Philly, I don't belong here—"

"Yes you do," the blonde snapped. "I heard about what you did on the Bridge when we were attacked. And ever since we've been here, you've glowed and been in your element. Maybe you were stressed about getting back, and Kate and I did put undue pressure on you to get it done, but something about this place works for you. _We_ don't belong here, but maybe you do."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Charlie sighed. "I've burned my bridges. All I want to do now is get back to Bristol."

Philippa opened her mouth to argue further, but Kate held her hand up, silently stopping her. While Kate agreed that Charlie should return, it was the woman's own decision to do as she wanted, and she didn't want hers or Philippa's opinions to color hers.

"We'll leave you to rest then," Kate said, standing up and pulling an arguing Philippa behind her, the doors shutting closed behind the bickering duo.

Charlie swallowed against the lump in her throat, her heart tight with unleashed emotion and wondering if she was doing the right thing. She needed to run back to Jim and apologize, then beg to remain on the _Enterprise._ Though the scenarios and conversations played out in her head, Charlie didn't move from her location on the bed. Only after she could barely keep her eyes open did she crawl under the covers to sleep for the few remaining hours were left to her onboard the starship.

The next morning, Charlie groggily opened her dry and burning eyes, having barely slept. She glanced to the clock next to the bed, it ready 05:36 in bright blue numbers. With a sigh, she rolled onto her back, contemplating going back to sleep, but realizing it didn't matter how hard she'd try, sleep would not come now. Getting up despite her body's protests, she woodenly went about her morning routine, trying to remain as quiet as possible not to wake the others. Soon however, first one then the other joined her in consciousness, too excited at the prospect of returning home.

Before they could begin to get restless, an announcement sounded through their quarters, requesting their presence in transporter room two. As Kate and Philippa shared excited glances, running hands down the outfits they came to the 23rd century in, Charlie had to suppress the rising urge to run and hide. But after everything she had done, and the trials she'd been through, she would be damned if she ran from this fight. She would battle on, facing everything with the newfound strength inside, because once everything was gone the only this she had left was her.

As if in a daze, she followed behind the others, entering into the transporter room where McCoy, Scotty, Spock, and several other members of the _Enterprise _crew were working and waiting. Scotty was doing some final calculations with Spock to make sure everything was in working order, while others prepped the pads for a new type of travel.

Charlie glanced around, trying to find a blonde haired, blue eyed man among the group.

"He'll be here," McCoy said coming up to her side, and clasping her on the shoulder. "Although I do speak for everyone when I say we're going to miss you, Spitfire. You sure livened things up around here, not that it needed help," he winked.

Charlie grinned. "Thanks, McCoy. I'm gonna miss you guys too, even your sadistic tendencies toward hyposprays."

McCoy laughed at that. "Come here, kid," he muttered as he drew her into a hug. Charlie smiled, deep feelings of sadness for leaving a man more her brother than the one she left behind. Releasing each other, Charlie backed away, her head snapping to the door as it swished opened. Her shoulders fell when no yellow shirted Captain entered.

"Weel, that's everything," she heard Scotty exclaim. "Alright, me wee lasses, up you get onto that pad. It's time for ya to be returning to where ya came from."

Kate and Philippa scrambled up the steps, sending quick goodbyes to the other officers.

"Wait, what about Jim?" Charlie asked panicked.

"Miss Noland, we cannot wait any longer or we will have to recalculate," Spock authoritatively spoke, his hands clasped behind his back, but a surprising sign of sympathy in his gaze. Like a knife, Charlie realized Jim wasn't coming. He wasn't going to say goodbye, and that hurt far more than any Klingon blade.

With a sad nod, Charlie climbed the steps onto the transported with shaking legs. She turned to look out amongst those that chose to send off the women. Spock dipped his head to her in acknowledgement while McCoy kept glancing toward the doors, unsure why the captain hadn't come. Distantly, Charlie heard Scotty give the order to release the torpedo with the New Red Matter, and waited with baited breath as he counted down. White lights began to appear in front of her vision as the familiar tingling of the transporter began to manipulate her atoms. As she glanced among those watching her depart, Charlie couldn't prevent the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye. She knew it would haunt her forever that she didn't get to say goodbye.

* * *

**And let the screaming at me commence . . . **

**So we're almost to the end of this lovely tale, only one more chapter to go. However, and I know a bunch of you are going to yell even louder at me for this, you aren't going to get the last chapter until October. I'm touring Europe beginning next week and I won't be returning stateside until October 1st. I'm sorry that the story's timeline played out like this, but please be gentle. This chapter was extra long so hopefully it will tide you lovely readers over until then.**

**Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, or even just read and moved on. The fact that most of you keep coming back means I must be doing something right :) **

**Now, until October, I bid you all ado **

**(I reiterate, please be gentle)**


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